


The Promise

by LornaLane



Series: Quocumque Modo [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Hogwarts Sixth Year, Mild Language, Slow Burn, long chapters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2020-05-13 07:42:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 20
Words: 64,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19246813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LornaLane/pseuds/LornaLane
Summary: Valeria Winters's world has grown smaller and darker. With few she can trust and fewer places to turn to, she searches desperately for ways to manage. The pressure builds, choices must be made, and she makes a solemn promise to keep alive the one person who feels remotely safe.





	1. Prologue: Vanished

From  _The Daily Prophet_

June 20th  1996

 

_HAVE YOU SEEN THIS WITCH?_

  _Valeria Winters, pictured above, has been missing since June 18 of this year. Her last known location was the atrium of the Ministry of Magic where she used Floo powder to travel to her home in north Wales. She was last seen wearing her Hogwarts uniform._

 _Winters is 16 years old with dark green eyes and long brown hair with a fringe. She weighs approximately 53 kilograms and is around 163 centimeters tall. She speaks in a lower register and with a very faint Welsh accent. She has a birthmark on the bottom of her right palm._

_If you have or find any information, please report it to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement immediately._

* * *

From  _The Daily Prophet_

June 25th, 1996

 

_Hieronymus Augustus Winters, 46, passed away June 18, 1996 in London. He was born on November 7, 1950 in Wales. Beloved husband of Odessa Winters (née Wenlock) of Yorkshire. Proud father of the late Konstantin Winters and Valeria Winters. Dear son of the late Sancus and Hollace Winters._

_Hieronymus was a pillar of the United Kingdom’s wizarding community, making substantial donations to noble causes and investing in many wizarding businesses, including Meripose Meadery, throughout his adult life. He is preceded in death by his parents and is survived by his wife and daughter. Private services were held in an undisclosed location. The family requests privacy during this time of mourning._

From  _The Daily Prophet_

June 25th, 1996

 

_Konstantin Silvester Winters, 23, tragically passed away on June 18, 1996 in London. He was born on April 16, 1973 in Wales. Dearly beloved son of Odessa Winters (née Wenlock) and the late Hieronymus Winters. Loving brother of Valeria Winters. He is preceded in death by his grandparents and his father and survived by his mother and sister._

_Konstantin was an alumnus of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry where he was made Prefect of Slytherin house and captain of the Quidditch team. He was a valued and ambitious team member of the Ministry of Magic, known for his diplomatic work in the International Office of Magical Law._ _Private services were held in an undisclosed location. The family asks for privacy during this time of mourning._

* * *

From  _The Daily Prophet_

July 1st, 1996

 

_TRAGEDY STRIKES THE WINTERS FAMILY_

_The dark truth surrounding the well-known Winters family (pictured left) was revealed on June 18, where Hieronymus Winters and son Konstantin were seen fighting for You-Know-Who in a malicious plot in the Department of Mysteries. The family joins the likes of the Malfoys whose patriarch was also present at the incident and is currently in Azkaban prison. Both Hieronymus and Konstantin were killed in the ensuing battle, the former crushed by fallen shelves and the latter by a rogue Killing Curse cast by escaped convict Bellatrix Lestrange._

_On top of losing her husband and son, Odessa Winters has had to suffer the disappearance of her daughter and last living child, Valeria, last seen with Harry Potter and other Hogwarts students at the incident._

_What other skeletons lurk in the closets of this once idyllic family? Did Odessa have knowledge about her husband’s and son’s dark ambitions? Where has the young Valeria, just 16 years old, been taken?_

_Odessa Winters has not responded to requests for comment._

_*****_  

“And Valeria? Any news?” Narcissa Malfoy asked weakly. She could not leave empty handed. She was here for her son, first and foremost, but she had to try to help her closest friend and the little girl she watched grow up. If she could help find Valeria, try to help keep her safe, she could help Draco.

“None. All reports so far have turned up nothing.” Snape replied. Narcissa had known it was a long shot, but that did nothing to quell her fear and frustration. How could Snape know nothing? He had his eyes and ears on everything.

“You must know something. She must be alive if he’s using her against Draco-” Narcissa started.

“Not against him, to motivate him. He will be rewarded and the girl will be fine,” Bellatrix said.

“I’ve told you my feelings already, Bella,” Narcissa said.

“I am sure that the Dark Lord would be very hesitant to spill magical blood from such a fine lineage,” Snape said.

“He’s only using the girl to punish her family-” Naricissa began. 

“Hieronymus and Konstantin lost sight of the goal. Both Odessa and Valeria need to learn what happens when one disobeys the-” Bellatrix started.

“That family has suffered enough!”

 

*****

Draco walked into his room and tried to set down the weight of the world with a sigh. He loosened his collar a bit, which helped, but only for a moment. He sat at his desk, facing the wall, and stared blankly at the stationary set before him. A moving picture caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. His mother had arranged the photographs, hanging them on the wall with great thought and care. The other parents she was friends with had this idea. Each year, all the Slytherin students in his year had stood for a photograph in the common room their first night back at school. Narcissa had labeled and dated each one.

_Year 1_

_September 1, 1991_

_Pansy Parkinson, Millicent Bulstrode, Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle, Draco Malfoy, Valeria Winters, Daphne Greengrass, Tracey Davies…_

And so forth. The positions they stood in had changed year to year, but Draco never really took the time to notice. They were so young first year, he was so short. The others’ expressions ranged from nervous to excited, but Valeria’s was the same every year no matter where she stood in lineup. A perfect face, a steady soft smile threatening to lift into a smirk. A confident, knowing look in her eye. She was lovely.

He hoped there wouldn’t be a picture this year. His mother would likely still insist, even though her mood had been dark as of late. It was important to her, though he could not fathom why. He hated that place. He hated classes, teachers, most of his fellow students. He could learn far more outside of school, he imagined, but he had to go this year, hopefully for the last time. So, there would probably be a picture. Would Valeria even be in it? His hope that she would faded as each day passed with no news. He missed her. He needed her. He had to protect her now; He had no choice.

But he stood straight in his chair, stroked his left arm, covered by his sleeve. He would do this. He would save his family, regain what his father had lost. He would save her too and he was ready. He was honored to have been given the task, finally given the chance to prove himself. It was his turn to be the hero. He set out ink and parchment. He wrote, yet again, knowing that Odessa would likely send it back. He didn’t care. He had to try. 

_Dear Valeria,_

_You’ll be safe now. Believe me. I’m going to help you and everything will be as it was. Please come home._

_Love,_

_Draco Malfoy_


	2. Found

_"When did it become real?" she asked him._

_"At the start," he said, brushing her hair out of her face._

_*****_

Valeria moved the curtain just enough to see a sliver of the nearly empty streets below. The sun had already set some time ago, the streets were empty and had been growing emptier with each passing day. The once bustling street was eerily quiet, the only visitors keeping their heads down as they walked in a rush to get where they needed as fast as possible.

Almost a month? It must have been almost a month since she arrived at the Leaky Cauldron. She had kept a calendar so as not to lose track of time, but her erratic sleep schedule made keeping time difficult. Plagued by the inability to rest and bad dreams when she did eventually pass out from shear exhaustion meant Valeria was up at irregular times with no pattern to regulate her internal clock. Keeping time became nearly impossible.

She was stressed more than usual tonight. She had not planned her escape well at all. When she arrived home, finding the castle empty, she dashed through the halls and rooms collecting items of value and necessities. Her mother’s fine clothes and jewelry, Twilfitt and Tattings had taken those eagerly, though the shopkeeper was unnerved by Valeria’s hooded face and rude haste. Her father’s items, strange devices, artifacts, and books she had sold to Borgin and Burkes, taking a discount for discretion. Her father’s prized mead she managed to sell too. It was enough money to get her this far, but she had given most of it to Tom,

_“I need a room,” she told him, the sound of her shaken voice seemed to startle him. It frightened her too. “Until September first.” He eyed her suspiciously._

_“That’s a long-”_

_“I can pay,” she said, emptying a large amount of coin onto the table. “I’ll also need meals brought to the room twice per day._ The Daily  _and_ Evening Prophets _, absolute privacy and total secrecy.”_

Tom had counted the coin and, though suspicious, seemed satisfied. He showed her to the room and she hadn’t left since. She was dangerously low on money, not knowing if she would have enough for school supplies, if she was even going back to Hogwarts. It was the safest place for her, but would her O.W.L. results even arrive at the Leaky Cauldron? Her vault in Gringotts had nearly infinite funds, but trying to access them would reveal her. The account was likely frozen when she was not found anyway.

She’d cross those bridges when she came to them. She was far too miserable to muster up the energy to plan her next move, it was far too daunting. She lived in a dark place, somewhere between grief and apathy, hardened by emptiness. All she had to consume her time was rereading the papers obsessively, in her haste she had forgotten to bring books to entertain herself. The only other thing she did to pass the time between waking and sleeping was put on her glamors each day, which she had been sure to collect from home. It became a sort of ritual, one piece of regularity in a now volatile world. She was a shadow of herself and she could not stand to look herself in the mirror without them. Besides those things, all of her dearest belongings, all the things she could distract herself with she had left behind at Hogwarts. 

At least it was quiet there. It wasn’t the natural silence of the Welsh mountains at home, but it would do. She was grateful for the fear people now possessed as they avoided the once bustling Leaky Cauldron. She could hide better, just under the nose of the wizarding world.

But it was dawning on her that she had nowhere to turn. Was she one of the Death Eaters now, on their side at least? She didn’t fight against them at the Ministry, that was certain. They were her closest friends, her family, and there was no way she would bring herself to turn against their side if it meant losing them. But she didn’t want to be taken in by them either, she did not want to be in their clutches or under their control. Her mother, her poor mother. She read the articles over and over again. Her mother was silent for once, not turning to the media, not doing damage control with her honeyed words. Her mother’s silence frightened Valeria the most. The Order was not an option. They had shattered her world, and it seemed unlikely they would dare help her now, given who her family was revealed to be. Her single greatest mistake was doing the right thing, helping Potter and his friends, that much was clear. 

A knock at the door sent her into a state of primal vigilance, like a startled prey animal. She ignored it, eyes glued to the door, watching the shadows in the crack between it and the floor. It couldn’t have been the housekeeper, they had given up trying to enter the room weeks ago. It was too late for a meal or the paper. They knocked again. 

“Go away!” She called. Her voice was weak. She has not heard herself speak in weeks.

“It’s Albus Dumbledore, Miss Winters. Can we talk?” His voice was calm, grandfatherly, but she was terrified and angry. She hardly had an option. Dumbledore could easily get into the room without repercussion if he felt the need. Shaking she went for the knob and opened the door.

Harry Potter. Harry Potter was here too and she moved to slam the door in both of their faces. 

“Miss Winters please wait,” Dumbledore said. “We’re only here to talk.”

“I have nothing to say to him!” 

“He comes in peace, Valeria.”

“I don’t want his peace!”

“We want to help you, Valeria. You are alone, frightened and running short on time. Please, let us help.”

She glared at Harry who could barely look at her.

“I don’t want to hear a single word from him,” she demanded.

“That’s reasonable,” Dumbledore said. She allowed them in, Harry standing sheepishly off to the side. “Please forgive our unannounced visit, I know it is quite rude of us.”

“How did you find me?” Valeria asked as she shut the door. She was sure to stand close to the exit.

“You were rather good at hiding, but Tom downstairs informed me when you arrived. I decided to keep that information to myself, to give you the space you seemed to need,” Dumbledore said. Valeria’s face contorted in anger. She’d be wanting some of her money back. “Now, I assume we will see you at the start of term?” Dumbledore asked.

“If I can manage it,” Valeria said honestly. She wanted to lie, say whatever to get them out of here, but Dumbledore was a difficult man to lie to.  

“I’m glad to hear you say so. What are your plans for the remainder of the summer?” Dumbledore asked. She scoffed as she gestured around the room.

“This.”

“I wondered if that was the case. Miss Winters, I’m here to invite you to spend the remainder of the summer at the home of Arthur and Molly Weasley beginning this evening,” Dumbledore said. Valeria was shocked, looking at Harry even he seemed surprised. It had to have been the worst idea she ever heard.

“That’s kind of you, but I must politely decline. I think it would be unwise,” Valeria replied.

“The Burrow is extremely well protected, you’ll be far safer there than you are here,” Dumbledore said. Safety left the night her father and brother died.

“I doubt I’d be welcome,” Valeria said.  

“Mr. and Mrs. Weasley have happily accepted my suggestion of allowing you to stay with them. I’m sure they’ve already made a place for you and are awaiting your arrival, though we’ll be a bit early. All you need to do is agree.”

“Don’t you understand? I’m not one of you,” Valeria insisted.  

“My dear, don’t you see you are not one of _them_ either? You would not have run if you were. And you are your parents’ child, but you are not their choices, those are theirs alone. You have been through so much. You have shown great strength and resourcefulness this summer, deciding to make a go of it on your own, on your terms. The Sorting Hat was wise to place you in Slytherin, indeed. But you do not have to be alone. You will be safer and better with others around you, and we are prepared to help you however we can. You are running short on options, Miss Winters. I urge you to make the right choice.”

Valeria considered. It was preposterous, spending the summer with people she hated in a place she did not know. But Dumbledore’s point of safety appealed to her and he was right that she would not make it much longer on her own. It was her only real option in a sea of terrible ones. She was sure they were trying to keep her from returning home, in order to keep an eye on her perhaps, but she did not particularly care. She could keep to herself, make herself scarce if needed and didn’t have to enjoy it. Only for a month and a half. She could manage that.

She nodded.

“Wonderful. I am thankful you decided to make the wisest choice, though I know this is difficult for you. Now gather your things and I’ll have them sent ahead of us,” Dumbledore said. Valeria obeyed, fortunately not having very many things to collect. When she set her brother’s broomstick, the one she used on the terrifying journey from Wales to London, down with the rest Dumbledore vanished it all away. She followed him and Potter downstairs to see Tom wiping down his counter.

“Thank you, Tom, for everything,” Dumbledore said kindly, but Valeria was already marching up the counter, her traveling cloak billowing slightly behind her.

“I want my money back!” she said. Tom looked stunned.

“Miss Winters, I’ll have your account released in the morning,” Dumbledore said. Valeria didn’t listen.

“You lied to me! You promised secrecy _and_ I paid you through the summer!” Valeria shouted. Dumbledore tried to calm her down, but she was too enraged. Tom eventually relented, paying her what she was owed. Harry looked tired and annoyed, but she didn’t care. Outside, Valeria took hold of Dumbledore’s free arm and disapparated, a feeling she doubted she would ever grow used to, and appeared before the ugliest building she had ever seen. She immediately regretted agreeing to this.

“Miss Winters, if you wouldn’t mind going on ahead, I need to have a few words with Harry,” Dumbledore requested as they passed through the gate. Valeria nodded and turned, bidding him no further farewell. She thought of turning back, she had some coin again, but she hadn’t the faintest idea where she was or where to go. With a shaking hand, she knocked on the door.

“Who’s there? State your business!” a nervous, but fierce female voice called within.

“Valeria Winters.”

The door opened at once and Valeria was met with a short, fat woman who looked white as a sheet to see her.

"Valer-? How did you-? We weren’t expecting you until the morning,” the woman, Mrs. Weasley she must have been said. Valeria had remembered seeing her around.

“My deepest apologies then,” Valeria said, her default politeness becoming her defensive shield. “Dumbledore fetched me and told me to knock. He’s talking with Potter in the shed.”

“The shed?”

“I didn’t ask for details, ma’am,” Valeria said.

“Of course, of course. Come in, dear, come in,” Mrs. Weasley said. Valeria was welcomed in and followed Molly in the cramped makeshift house to the kitchen where she saw the female auror that dueled with her brother sitting at the table. The woman must have seen Valeria’s disgust.

“My God,” she said, as if she had seen a ghost.

“Valeria, this is Nymphadora Tonks, but just Tonks will do,” Mrs. Wealsey introduced. “Tonks this is Valeria Wint-”

“We’ve met, though not under pleasant circumstances. Tonks, is it? You must be Draco Malfoy’s cousin. He’s a very dear friend, you see,” Valeria said. She couldn’t help herself, the sight of this woman made her act like her petty, passive aggressive mother. Mrs. Weasley looked a bit confused as Tonks approached.

“I understand,” Tonks said. “But believe me, I am very relieved to see that you are safe. What you’ve been through-”

“I don’t need your sympathy, but thank you anyway, _Tonks_ ,” Valeria said. Tonks tried not to react, the woman looked ill and it was hard for her to control herself it seemed. Valeria wanted to offer her some glamors to insult her further, but Mrs. Weasley interrupted.

“Are you hungry, Valeria? I’d be happy to cook something up for you,” Mrs. Weasley said.

“No, thank you, Mrs. Weasley,” Valeria said.

“I can show you to your room if you like, you must be tired.”

“Yes, that’d be very kind,” Valeria responded. Mrs. Weasley was trying to distract her or get her out of the room when that failed. Valeria wasn’t tired, but she didn’t mind. Being away from Tonks was a splendid idea. She ascended the creaky stairs behind Mrs. Weasley.

“I should tell you that you’ll be sharing. Do you remember Fleur Delacour?” Mrs. Weasley asked.

“Yes, of course.”

“She’s engaged to my son Bill and is staying with us for a bit. I hope you don’t mind. I’m sure it’s much different from home.”

“Not at all, Mrs. Weasley.”

Mrs. Weasley showed her the door to the room and bid Valeria goodnight. Sure enough there was a girl sleeping in one of the beds and an empty one on the other side. The room was small with only one lit candle to see by and the bed prepared for her looked like it had been put together that day, but Valeria minded less when she saw her things at the end of it. Looking longer, she saw her trunk bearing the initials _V.T.W._ , Dumbledore must have sent for her things from Hogwarts, which almost made her weep with relief. She’d have plenty of time to go through it all tomorrow. For now, she changed and went to bed, worrying herself to exhaustion and eventually falling asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're off. Sorry this chapter is so short. This will be longer than the fifth yeah installment and is the one I've drafted the most of so far, so I'm pacing myself more. There are some things from the previous installment that only make sense if you've read it, of course. Thanks for reading.


	3. Konstantin Winters

Valeria knew there’d be an adjustment period. She guessed that this would not be easy on anyone. She, however, did not anticipate hearing her name through the thin walls of the Burrow as she got ready in the late morning, having overslept more than was probably polite.

“I don’t know who’ll be worse. Valeria or Phlegm,” that was unmistakably Ginny’s voice.

“Is she still seeing Malfoy?” Ron asked. Valeria stopped. _Draco_. Valeria had nearly forgotten him that morning, too preoccupied with emotionally navigating the drastic change in her circumstances. She wanted to write to him every say and had drafted dozens of unsent letters the past month. In her darkest moments, she nearly flew to Malfoy Manor to see him, but stopped herself each time. Would he even want to see her? Did he know she was helping the DA that night? Would he blame her for not doing more to prevent his father’s imprisonment? Were they even still together now, were they even friends? There were rational guesses to answer all those questions, but the uncertainty ate away at her and she decided that for now it was better not to know. She missed him though, more than anyone, especially now. She laughed to herself a little imagining what he would when he found out Dumbledore brought her there. She wanted the familiarity and comfort of his presence more than ever. His musk, his embrace, even the way he carried himself like the arrogant ass he was. But there would be no way to get to him now. They were lost to each other, at least for now.

“Dunno. She refused to speak to me,” Potter said.

Ginny scoffed. “Of course, she blames you. Which is why bringing her here was a terrible idea. I don’t trust her.” Ginny said.

“If she was dangerous, Dumbledore wouldn’t have brought her,” Hermione said.

“Her family’s crawling with _Death Eaters_!” Ginny said. 

“But _she’s_ not one of them. She helped us,” Hermione said.

“She did run though,” Ron said. 

“She didn’t know what she was in for either; She fell into same trap that we did. Her dad and brother were killed right in front of her, for God’s sake!” Hermione said.

“It’s not just that though, she freaks me out. She’s always acted like she’s the best thing to ever walk the earth with her snooty attitude and looking like a _Witch Weekly_ model with all that stuff on her face. It’s creepy.”

Valeria heard enough, her anger overtaking her wisdom, and left the little bedroom quietly. She made her way down the hall to where the others were speaking, surprised they did not hear her approaching with how loudly the floors creaked. 

“She has every reason to hate us. Her being here makes no sense,” Ginny said.

“The walls are rather thin, Weasley,” Valeria said, appearing in the doorway. The group’s faces went nearly white and Ginny practically jumped out of her skin. Hermione looked as though she was looking for the right words to say, Harry looked down and Ron looked dumbfounded, as expected. “My parents hired a home improvement service once, they were very good. Should I pass a recommendation to your mother?”

Ginny said nothing, but was rather obviously fuming.

“We were just...it’s not what you-” Hermione blithered.

“I understand. If anyone has any questions for me, I’d be happy to answer,” Valeria said, wearing her politest smile and most serene disposition, not for the sake of her own dignity, but so that the rest of them would feel as abashedly guilty as possible. This was just her kind of cordial vengeance.  

“Oh, Valeria! You’re up,” Mrs. Weasley said, coming up the stairs and looking around at the teenagers. “What are you all up to?”

“Ginny has some concerns about my staying here and I was just offering to clear the air,” Valeria said, smile so subtly malicious that she was almost sneering. Molly’s face darkened astonishingly quickly from friendly to irate.

“Ginny! We talked about this. Downstairs, now! Valeria, come to the table and we’ll get you fed after I deal with this,” Mrs. Weasley said. Ginny stormed out of the room, glaring once at Valeria before following her mother downstairs. Valeria nodded to the others in acknowledgement before she turned away. She prided herself on her ability to move in any space comfortably, carrying herself with a soft confidence and so far, this ability had served her well. She knew how to be a guest in someone’s home; Gracious, but not awkward, comfortable, but never too at-home. The cramped quarters and tension in the house resulting from her presence had thrown her off that morning and she had never felt more out of place. This was not a family dynamic she was used to, everyone seemed to blurt out their feelings without a second thought, and there was hardly a sense of decorum. It was difficult to orient herself in this mess of people and personalities. Even the way she was dressed made their differences all the starker. Her fine clothes, even the most casual ones she owned, made her stick out.  

“You’re up!” Fleur Delacour stood and went to Valeria, giving her a kiss on each cheek in greeting. “Eet iz so good to meet you!” Valeria was a tinge jealous of Fleur, namely of how tall she was, but she was so far the only person, saving Mrs. Weasley, who welcomed her with any grace. From the sound of it, some of the others weren’t too thrilled about Fleur being here either, so Fleur just might have been the closest thing to a friend she would manage to have here.

“You as well, Fleur,” Valeria said.

“I am zo sorry for what you’ve been through,” Fleur said.

“Thank you, that’s kind of you,” Valeria responded.

“Can I get you something to eat?” Fleur asked. 

“There’s no need, Fleur-” Mrs. Weasley interjected, reentering the room with a sulky looking Ginny, who immediately went to work in the kitchen.

“Oh, eet would be my pleazure! Seet, Vee-leer-ia, seet!” Fleur said, directing Valeria to a chair. Mrs. Weasley set a cup of tea on the table before Valeria when she spotted the paper. With Mrs. Weasley’s permission, she took it and began to read over the morning’s news. 

_BREAKING NEWS_

_VALERIA WINTERS FOUND SAFE_

_Valeria Winters, daughter and sister of late Death Eaters Hieronymus and Konstantin Winters, respectively, has been reported to be found and brought to a safe location as per the Ministry of Magic. Her current location is being kept undisclosed for the young woman’s privacy and safety, but the public should be aware that Valeria is well and there is no need to worry about her safety any longer._

“Mrs. Weasley,” Valeria called, heart dropping. “Does my mother know that I’m here?”

Mrs. Weasley tensed, but looked sympathetic. “No, dear. Only members of the Order know. Dumbledore thought it would be best to keep that information secret for now.” Valeria must have looked severe as Mrs. Weasley put a gentle hand on her shoulder. “I can’t imagine how hard this is on you and what your mother is going through, but it’s believed that this is for your own safety until you are back at Hogwarts.” 

Valeria almost snapped at her. It wasn’t _her_ family torn apart. It wasn’t _her_ children she had to worry about right now, but the others were descending the stairs others, Hermione looking rather unfortunate with a huge black eye that Valeria did not recall from earlier, and Valeria decided to bite her tongue for the moment. Potter came down shortly after, but Valeria paid little attention to him or the conversations around her, scouring the paper for anything she could find about her friends or family. She hated being around Potter the most. Valeria could handle Ginny, she was simply an annoyance, but Potter was the indirect source of her rage and grief and being in the same room as him caused her appetite to lessen as recalled the first time she met him, picking at her breakfast.

_“I hope we make a good impression,” Valeria said to Draco as they moved through the narrow aisles of the Hogwarts Express, Crabbe and Goyle trailing behind them. Draco scoffed._

_“I bet he’ll be relieved to see us. How could he not?” he said. Valeria knew that he was referring to their status. She was incredibly curious about Potter, having grown up hearing his story over and over. He was no longer legend but here in the flesh! She had so many questions, but Draco was on a mission of his own, to win the good favor of the most famous person in the world. “It’s this one,” Draco said, sliding the compartment door open._

_Red hair on one of the boys, likely a Weasley. Valeria vaguely remembered seeing him in Diagon Alley a few weeks ago. But beside him a confused looking boy with black hair and glasses looked up at her and her cohort, his eyes landing squarely on Malfoy._

_"Is it true? They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter's in this compartment. So, it's you, is it?" Draco said proudly._

_"Yes," said Harry, looking them over. Valeria smiled politely while Draco smirked._

_"Oh, this is Crabbe and this is Goyle," Draco said and gestured to her. “And this-”_

_“Valeria Winters. A pleasure to meet you,” she said. Before Harry or the Weasley could respond Draco opened his stupid mouth again. "And my name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy." The Weasley coughed, trying to conceal a laugh, and Valeria knew what was coming next when Draco looked right at him. "Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford."_

_“Draco-” Valeria started to scold, but was not quite quick enough._

_"You'll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there.” Draco held out his hand, but Harry simply looked at it._

_"I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks," Harry said. This would not go over well. Of course, Draco had to ruin this!_

_"I'd be careful if I were you, Potter. Unless you're a bit politer you'll go the same way as your parents. They didn't know what was good for them, either. You hang around with riffraff like the Weasleys and that Hagrid, and it'll rub off on you.”_

_“Draco!” Valeria admonished, but Harry and Ron had leapt from their seats._

_"Say that again," Ron said._

_"Oh, you're going to fight us, are you? Didn’t your mother teach you it’s rude to fight in front of ladies," Draco said._

_“Stop being such an a-” Valeria began._

_"Unless you get out now," said Harry. Valeria was growing tired of being constantly interrupted._

_"But we don't feel like leaving, do we? We've eaten all our food and you still seem to have some,” Draco said._

_“You can buy more!” Valeria said, losing her patience. But Goyle, the moronic brute, was already reaching for their treats, then crying out a rather shrill yell. A rat had bit him and was hanging off his finger. Valeria backed up with Draco and Crabbe as Goyle yelled and flailed, comically, in pain. When Goyle was released, the three boys ran off, but Valeria remained behind._

_“I’m sorry about him,” Valeria said, turning back to the two boys, who looked confused as to why she was still there. “He can be a bit much.”_

_“Looks like we can handle him well enough,” Ron said. “Winters, right? My mum reads all your mum’s articles.”_

_“The very same,” Valeria said. Ron started beaming._

_“I’m Ron. Wait, that means your brother is Konstantin, right?! My brother told me that he was one of the best Quidditch players Hogwarts had seen in decades! A shame he played for Slytherin though. Why didn’t he join a professional league after school!?” Ron said excitedly. Of course, everyone was much more interesting in her mother and talented brother._

_“You’d have to ask him. Quidditch has never been really of interest to me,” Valeria said with a laugh. “I should go check on them. It was a pleasure to meet you both. I’m glad you’re here, Potter. Hogwarts will certainly be interesting now.”_

She had not been wrong, but this was not the kind of ‘interesting’ she ever had in mind. Valeria was shaken from her musing when Hermione shrieked at the window. Four owls in the distance were headed toward the Burrow and Valeria was informed that their O.W.L. results would be arriving that day. She had been so worried about whether or not an owl would even find her that she had no time to worry about the results themselves, an anxiety which washed over her now as the owls landed on the table. Valeria should not have been surprised at the chaos that ensued; Hermione’s panic, Fleur telling everyone what the procedure at Beauxbatons was, the multiple conversations, the yelling. She just wanted to learn her fate in peace and quiet.

Valeria reached, trying not to tremble, carefully retrieving the envelope addressed to her. The room was suddenly quiet as the others read their own results.

 

_Ordinary Wizarding Level Results_

_ Pass Grades: _

_Outstanding (O)_

_Exceeds Expectations (E)_

_Acceptable (A)_

_ Fail Grades: _

_Poor (P)_

_Dreadful (D)_

_Troll (T)_

_Valeria Terpsichore Winters has achieved:_

_Astronomy E_

_Care of Magical Creatures A_

_Ancient Runes O_

_Charms E_

_Defense Against the Dark Arts E_

_Divination E_

_Herbology A_

_History of Magic O_

_Potions O_

_Transfiguration O_

She was relieved. She had managed to pass on to N.E.W.T. level, but how she managed to do well in Divination, she had no idea. Apparently just making up whatever came to mind had worked just fine. Her and Draco’s study breaks seemed to have not terribly hindered her either, maybe even helped in at least her Charms result. She set down the letter after reading through it a few times, disheartened to remember how she had flung her arms around Draco when their last exam wrapped up. They had intended on celebrating that night with the others. She was going to bring some mead she had smuggled into the school from the family cellar over Christmas. He was getting his results too, probably that instant, his mother likely reading anxiously over his shoulder.

“How’d you do, Valeria?” Hermione asked, her anxiety quelled. Wordlessly, Valeria passed her the envelope with her results.

“You did amazing! Looks like we’ll be in some of the same class,” Hermione said, trying to sound cheerful. Valeria would not have guessed different, but was not entirely happy about it. Her ambition to work in the Department of Mysteries had fizzled anyway and she did not linger too long on what her future would be. She never wanted to see the Department of Mysteries again.

“Is that your middle name?” Ron asked, nosily peering over Hermione’s shoulder. Valeria despised her middle name, the ugliest name she ever heard. She had always been jealous that Konstantin got the better deal in that and had hardly ever disclosed her middle name to anyone. “How do you even pronounce that?”

“Ron!” Hermione scolded.

“Tarp-SICK-or-ee,” Valeria instructed, and had to repeat a few times. “A Greek name, one of the Muses or something. My mother’s family’s tradition.”

Valeria excused herself after eating, back to the room she shared with Fleur, aching for some time alone. She had grown so used to solitidue that maintaining appearences became a feat of great strength that exhausted her. She decided to go through her things, trying to ignore the pestering thoughts about her mother, Draco, her future, and all the rest. She sorted her clothes, her glamors, and accessories which had been easy enough. She enjoyed putting her attention on a mindless task for a little while until she came upon the other objects. The ones she did not want to remember.

The collapsible cauldron from Draco and the vials from Konstantin. She was thankful to have them back, but their presence now was weighed down by the givers’ imprints on them. Did Draco hang the poster she gave him up when he got home? 

The book Terry had given her, the journal he had enchanted himself. She tossed it to the side without reminiscence. A different girl had dated Terry bloody Boot. She thought of giving it to Ginny so the brat could write whatever terrible things she wanted about her.

A photograph. The family Christmas portrait that her mother had sent along after Valeria returned to school after the break last term. That was the last day she saw her brother before the Department of Mysteries. It looked nothing like the family pictures that lined the walls of the Weasley home, smiling waving, laughing. It was a serious picture, soft smiles. Her parents were seated and Valeria stood behind her mother, Konstantin behind their father before an opulent fireplace in the main hall of their little castle. Tears pricked her eyes to see them all, together for the last time, one unit with one goal; to uphold the family name and honor their legacy. It had all been so simple.

Another picture, she had kept forgetting to send it off to her mother. The tradition of the Slytherins of her age to gather in the common room each year the first night of their return to Hogwarts. She remembered the other years, where she would stand near or close to Draco, but in this one she stood on the other end with her friends. They hadn’t spoken all last summer and they were repeating themselves again this one, for much more severe reasons.

There were other pictures, her mother had insisted upon her taking them with her. Ones with her girlfriends, she missed them dearly, anxious to see them again. She wanted to write to them, but knew the Weasleys wouldn’t allow it since her location was to be kept a secret. Not that they’d approve anyway, given the Greengrasses and the others were much closer to opposing side than theirs in this war.

There was a final one, shoved away in the very bottom that Valeria did not remember removing from her trunk last year. Turning it over, her breath nearly hitched. Her mother must have put it in there, probably thinking it was a lovely photograph. The Yule Ball, mid dance with Draco. They were smiling as they turned. They were laughing. Colin Creevey had given the picture to her. She held it in her hand and stared longlingly at it, as if she would be transported back if only she looked long and hard enough. They looked a little silly. As she watched them move in the picture, she noticed Draco nearly tripping over himself. They looked more like children playing dress up in some ways, in their finest, than being the very name of elegance that she imagined they were at the time. She knew him then, for a brief time. 

“’Ello, eet iz nearly lunch,” Fleur said, entering the room and glancing down at the picture in her hand. “Oh, eez that the Yule Ball?!" 

“Yeah.”

“Eet was so amazing, that night! Eez that your boyfriend?”

“Something like that,” Valeria said, trying to gain her composure.

“You look cute together,” Fleur smiled. Valeria gave a little laugh and thanked her.

“Mrs. Weasley also wants to speak with you,” Fleur said, picking up on Valeria’s aloofness. Valeria obeyed, following her back downstairs, only to be pulled off to the side by Mrs. Weasley.

“I’ve just received a letter. Tonks, who you met last night, will be coming today to speak with you,” Mrs. Weasley said, speaking to Valeria as if she were a child.

“Am I in trouble?” Valeria asked.

“No, no! Not at all! The Ministry just wants a record of your story. That’s all. Just tell Tonks your side of things and that will be the end of it,” Mrs. Weasley said. Valeria did not trust her words worth a damn, but submitted. It was not worth the effort to put up a fight and she just wanted to get it over with. Valeria sat after dinner with yet another cup of tea awaiting Tonks’s arrival and having spent most of the day in silence. She did not join the others her age in their talks or games, as it was quickly becoming clear that she was not entirely welcome even if she had wanted to be. The only good thing about living in that hovel was the food. She had to hand it to Mrs. Weasley there. When Mrs. Weasley answered the door and Tonks came into the little kitchen, Valeria refused to stand.

“I’ll leave you to it. Do let me know if you need anything,” Mrs. Weasley said before leaving. Tonks said nothing as she sat and Valeria could feel the resentment stirring already. The ill looking woman removed parchment and a self-writing quill from her things and sighed.

“I want you to know that this is only a formality. You’ve done nothing wrong,” Tonks said as the quill noted the date, time and location on its own.

“I’m well aware,” Valeria said.

“Alright, then. Tell me what happened on June 18th,” Tonks said. Valeria told her the story and the background. How she had joined the DA, not out of any urge to fight Voldemort, but out of disappointment in Umbridge’s pedagogy. She recounted how she had fallen out with the DA after Potter’s interview and how she came to join the Inquisitorial Squad. She surprised even herself at her honesty, particularly in explaining her motivations. Oh, how disappointed her mother would be if she knew the full truth. She explained what happened in Umbriedge’s office, how she was trying to help, how she was only supposed to play hostage, maybe even exchange Sirius Black for her to avoid a fight. How she used Floo powder to go home and then flew to the Leaky Cauldron on her brother’s prized broomstick. She told Tonks everything, though it was nothing that she likely didn’t already know.

“Thank you, Valeria,” Tonks said when Valeria had finished. “I must ask, you having known your family, were you aware or suspicious of their allegiances?”

Valeria looked up from her cup. This was the pertinent question. This was why Tonks was here bothering her about this. Of course, she had suspicions, just as Draco repeatedly said. She had woken up to find her father and brother out of bed at the Quidditch World Cup, her mother shooing her away and finding Draco also alone in the trees. She had seen Lucius Malfoy and her father retire many times to private rooms for conversations that carried long into the night. Her parents had both preached to her that their way of life was fragile, that muggleborns and their families threatened to destroy all of it. She knew how her father had avoided Azkaban after Voldemort’s fall. It was all there, but she chose her whole life to overlook it. Her parents enforcing absolute perfect behavior in public to maintain their powerful position just in case any suspicions from their fellows should arise. 

The conversation at Christmas, the one she and Draco had overheard was the writing on the wall. That secret had remained between the two of them, she doubted that his parents even knew. The talk of a “plan,” her brother’s dark ambitions abroad, and the way in which her father suggested revealing the truth to her. No one knew that.

“No, I suspected nothing,” Valeria lied. She was angry at her family. They never told her and she still did not know why. She wanted to run to her mother, demand an explanation, and unleash all her pent up ire at her and then cry into her arms like a frightened child. But she would not betray them. Not ever, no matter what they did. She would not change her ways or mar their reputation further and, by extension, her own. It was an unspoken rule in their circles. They had to stick together, no matter what; _By any means necessary._

Tonks did not reveal in her expression whether or not she believed Valeria’s lie. Not that it mattered, she would have to take it and report it to the Ministry anyway. The record would protect Valeria this time with an official statement that she knew nothing. She was safe from any consequences and her reputation had a chance of mending. Tonks let the ink dry and repackaged the quill and parchment to Valeria’s relief.

“Thank you for your patience. I know this wasn’t easy for you,” Tonks said.

“Do you?” Valeria asked, kicking herself as soon as she said it. Her patience was waning and she could not help her bitterness. Tonks sighed and looked at her.

“I was surprised too about Konstantin. I knew him at school, y’know,” Tonks said. Valeria scoffed a little. Konstantin never mentioned her, but Valeria knew the story. She knew why her mother didn’t associate with Andromeda Tonks.

“I doubt you knew him well,” Valeria said. It was practically a given that Konstantin would not associate beyond polite conversation with Andromeda’s daughter.

“Well, no. We were never close, but he was nice to me when he did have to talk to me. Does the name Jane Masters mean anything to you?” Tonks asked.

“No,” Valeria said, growing irritated, not wanting to talk about her brother.

“I didn’t think it would,” Tonks said, almost disappointed. “Jane was a friend of mine, in Ravenclaw. Completely brilliant. She works for Nimbus now, helping design the broomsticks-”

“So?” Valeria snapped. 

“I caught Jane her crying in a corner once during seventh year and she made me swear to secrecy before telling me why. Apparently, she and your brother had been seeing each other since like fifth year, they got close after he congratulated her on a good Quidditch match. Your brother had insisted on keeping the relationship a secret, even from their families, barely acknowledging her in the halls, which upset Jane, but she was too head over heels for one of the most handsome boys at school, so she put up with it. But McGonagall caught them snogging in an empty classroom in seventh year, gave them a detention which was written home about. Konstantin was apparently distraught over that, begging McGonagall not to do it, which Jane thought was odd. After a few days, he pulled her aside and broke things off with her quickly with no explanation. That’s why Jane was crying,” Tonks explained. 

Valeria was still lost. Her brother’s love life mattered very little now, though it did make her remember all the times their father had urged him to find a girlfriend. If Konstantin was with anyone after Hogwarts, he never told her.

“I’m not following,” Valeria said. 

“I knew why he ended it, almost immediately. My mum had told me all about your parents, at least from when she still knew them. Jane didn’t and to be fair, Konstantin never revealed much of anything like that to her. She knew the rumors about your father, but they were only whispers by then,” Tonks said.

“If you have something to say, just go on and-” Valeria nearly slammed her empty tea cup on the table. 

“Jane’s muggleborn, Valeria,” Tonks said. Valeria looked at her, knowing her meaning immediately, but trying to seem as though she didn’t. “It was right around that time that he cancelled all of the try outs for professional Quidditch leagues he had scheduled and decided to go into Magical Law, no explanation. I don’t pretend to know what happened with him and your parents, but I think you can guess.” 

Valeria’s heart sank. Everyone always asked him why he never went for a professional Quidditch career, almost constantly. He always brushed it off, changing the subject. But he went to every World Cup match he could, he followed his favorite team religiously. Even Valeria wondered why he didn’t pursue it, seeing how obvious it was that he loved it. She didn’t want it to make sense, but it did. She could easily imagine her parents reacting poorly to him dating a muggleborn. They had never stopped her from interacting, even being friendly with muggleborns, but anything beyond that she implicitly knew would be another matter entirely. They must have threatened him. They would absolutely take away his wealth and shun him. They would take away everything he ever cared for, and like Valeria, he must not have been strong enough to give up his family, friends, money, station, and reputation in exchange. It explained so much and yet so little.

“That’s why I was so surprised, yet not entirely, to see him at the Department of Mysteries. He was never like that, y’know? I felt bad for him, really. Before he saw you, he wasn’t dueling me over the prophecy or for You-Know-Who or anything like that. He was fighting for you,” Tonks said.

Valeria could hardly think of words to say. She only fought the tears in her eyes, remembering him lifeless on the ground after trying to protect her. Tonks surely did not intend it to be so, but it felt cruel. “Why are you telling me this?”

Tonks stood with her things. “You deserve to know that there was more to him than you might think, than what a lot of people might think. I think he’d want you to know. I don’t think he’d want you to follow in his steps.”

She left without much of a well wish and Valeria sat alone with her empty teacup, frozen to her spot. Konstantin made his choice to his end, but he did not betray his family. Knowing all this, imagining what their parents had done to him, did not do much to weaken her loyalty to what she knew. 

But it did chip at it, just a little.


	4. Departure

_"Your lilacs are dying," he pointed out nonchalantly._

_"They never do bloom long," she replied._

_****_

The weeks passed like years, but Valeria managed to create a steady routine to keep her somewhat sane, reminding herself that this was only temporary. She did not join in games, the makeshift Quidditch matches, or the evening talks that were held. She kept to herself reading books and the _Prophet_ religiously, keeping a mental track of all the happenings in the wizarding world. Thankfully, the Winters name faded from front page news once her recovery had been reported, but that meant she had no new information on her mother or vice versa.

Potter’s birthday arrived, the occasion dampened by the latest news of disappearences and distresses. Valeria kept quiet, being there for the sake of politeness, awaiting the time in which her social obligation would be complete and she could return to her room. Diagon Alley was mentioned and Valeria perked up. She would need to get school supplies, she would have to leave the house, even if only for a little while. When it was time to retire, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley asked Valeria to stay behind, a command which she politely and dutifully obeyed.

“This is difficult to say. I hope you can understand-” Mr. Weasley began.

“Is it about my mother? Has something happened?” Valeria asked, panicked.

“No, no. Your mother is fine, as far as we know. No, this is about Diagon Alley. You’ve been very patient during your stay, for which we are grateful, but it’s been decided that it would be best if you remained behind while-”

“I beg your pardon,” Valeria said spitefully.

“It is a complicated situation-”

“Who? Who decides what’s best for me, I’d like to meet them,” Valeria said, enraged.

“Professor Dumbledore, Valeria,” Mrs. Weasley said, trying to be gentle. “He believes that it would be too dangerous for you to venture out just now.”

“Potter gets to go, he’s far more valuable than me!” Valeria said.

“It's unlikely that You-Know-Who would attack Harry out in the open, but we’ll be taking precautions all the same. However, you do have value to his followers and we would like to take every measure to keep you out of their hands,” Mr. Weasley explained. Valeria was nearly shaking with rage.

“Am I not trustworthy?”

“It has nothing to do with you. We know that your family, their friends, will go to great lengths to retrieve you. We simply want you to be safe until we get you on the train to Hogwarts,” Mrs. Weasley said.

“How will I get my supplies?” Valeria asked.

“We will take your list and purchase the items for you. We'll take your measurements and we can order robes. Bill will be able to access your account on your behalf, with your sign off, of course,” Mr. Weasley said.

“This is ridiculous,” Valeria spat.

“I know this is difficult-” Mrs. Weasley said.

“Do you? That’s all anyone has said to me and yet no one does anything to try to make it easier! I have been nothing but quiet and obedient here, but I’m still being punished!”

“This is not a punishment,” Mr. Weasley said.

“Isn’t it though? I’m being punished for my family’s crimes. When I came here I didn’t realize I’d be held prisoner!” Valeria said.

“Valeria, you’re not a pris-” Mrs. Weasley started.

“Then let me go with! I won’t run. I’ll do as I’m told. You can make me swear…” Valeria said, tears welling in her eyes born of anger and frustration.

“We know, believe us, we’d like to bring you with us. It’s just a precaution. Tonks will be here to keep watch and keep you company,” Mrs. Wealsey said. Valeria stood, unable to bear it any longer.

“Goodnight,” she said through her teeth.

 

The next morning, a cloudy and dreary day, Valeria barely got a chance to look at her letter and supplies list before handing it over to Mr. Weasley. She already knew her measurements, having gotten fitted for robes and clothing countless times, and handed them off to Mrs. Weasley. Valeria hadn’t grown much since fourth year, so there likely wouldn't be any change in her measurements. If her robes didn’t fit well, she knew how to fix it herself anyway. She had one more thing to do, something she'd been considering for a while, and she approached Mrs. Weasley privately.

“I hope this does not come off as an insult,” Valeria said, handing Mrs. Weasley a small coin purse.

“Bill has already withdrawn the funds-”

“This is for room and board. I would hate to take advantage of your hospitality,” Valeria said, in her sweetest syrupy voice. It was not an altruistic act, not with the news of her confinement. It was an act of dominance. No matter what they wanted to do, no matter how much they could control her, she had more money and for now that meant something. It was an unkind thing, against the Winters' way of doing things; " _Flaunt nothing,"_ her father had always said. But her wealth was the only control she had left, and she was prepared to let them know. “Really, I insist. I don’t like to owe anyone anything.”

 

Tonks and Valeria sat in silence after the others left, Valeria trying to focus on a book she was pretending to read. In a way, she was a bit happy to have quiet in the house. Solitude was hard to come by in the Weasley home, but it was difficult to take full advantage of it with the envy she felt towards the others at having the freedom to step off the property.

 

Draco, of course, knew no freedom. He wanted to be free to curse Potter and his friends in Madam Malkins, free to do what had to be done without his mother trying to follow his every footstep, free to fly off and search of all of England to find Valeria himself. She was safe, according to the papers, but he was hesitant to trust anything in print. By whose definition was she safe? 

He had a suspicion that Potter and his friends knew more than he told when he asked them straight forwardly at Madam Malkins. The twitch in Granger’s lip before Potter denied any knowledge gave that away. She was not nearly as clever as she thought she was. His mother must have sensed he was seeing red with how quickly she rushed him out of that shop. It had made him all the more determined to do what he he had planned. If she was found safe, she’d be at Hogwarts, especially if _their_ lot had her. They all believed that Hogwarts was impenetrable, they’d drop their guard over he as soon as she stepped on that train. He’d be able to see her, give to her, keep her safe. 

“One last thing,” Draco said. Borgin looked displeased at yet another threat thinly veiled as a request. Draco removed from his pocket a folded page he had torn out of a very old book back home, happening upon the discovery whilst obsessively researching certain forms of obscure magic. “Do you know about these?”

Borgin examined the parchment, looking even more baffled by it than Draco’s other demands. Draco stared intently at the man’s every move and twitch; He needed this to work, if only for his own peace of mind. He would not be taking no for an answer. “Sir, this is very old magic. Very powerful. I haven’t come across an item like this in many years.”

“I don’t need a history lesson. Can you have it made? Discretely?” Draco asked.

Borgin thought it over, looking over the page. “Yes. I believe it can be done. It will take some time...” 

“I need it no later than Christmas Eve. Can you do that?”

“Most likely. You do know what such an item requires?”

“I read the damn thing! Let’s get it over with,” Draco said, knowing his mother was probably getting antsy and his time running short. Borgin left the counter while Draco let out a stressed sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose, drumming the fingers of his other hand on the counter. Borgin returned with a glass flask, a sharp knife, and a small box. He opened the box and cleaned the knife with some liquid and a rag that were held within.

“Your hand, sir.” Borgin said. Draco tentatively extended his right arm, he always hated the sight of blood, and Borgin held him by the wrist. “Close your eyes, and think about them. Picture them in your mind as clearly as possible.” Draco obeyed. He thought of her hair, her scent. Her sneaky little smile, the way she danced by the lake. The look in her eyes when she was annoyed at him. Her sopralto voice. The way she walked with such unattainable dignity. He could almost reach out and touch her.

Adeptly, Borgin cut the blade into Draco’s hand, the latter hitching his breath at the pain, but otherwise hardly flinched. Borgin carefully guided Draco’s hand over the open flask and Draco’s face twisted as Borgin squeezed his palm to let the blood trickle into it. “Keep thinking.”

Thinking of her, of her dark brown hair blowing about in the wind, gave Draco and excuse not to look at the blood, the sharp pain subsiding into a throbbing ache. Once Borgin was satisfied with the sample, he wordlessly healed Draco’s hand with a wave of his wand, to Draco’s relief. He capped the flask and Draco placed another folded piece of paper on the counter. 

“This is what I want it to look like. Make sure it’s done.”

“Yes, of course, sir.” 

Draco removed a small purse from his pocket and emptied coin onto the counter. “Half up front. Extra for keeping it strictly between us. I’ll get you the second half once I receive it.” 

“Agreed. A pleasure as always, sir.”

Draco massaged his palm as he walked back down the dark and silent alley, still feeling tinges of phantom pain. He was careful not to be seen, but the empty streets made him more at ease and the solution to some of his anxieties in motion, made real, empowered him. _I’ll get it done, Valeria. You’ll be safe._

 

Valeria was not amused that the others arrived home, it felt like they hadn’t been gone long at all. 

“All is well, I trust?” Mr. Weasley asked Tonks, who looked relieved that her babysitting duties were.

“Absolutely nothing happened, just as I predicted,” Valeria said with snarky sweetness. Mr. Weasley chose to ignore her and bid Tonks farewell. Mrs. Weasley handed Valeria her new books and supplies, which did cheer her some. She retreated to her room before the inevitable familial chaos could overwhelm her. Fortunately, she had the room to herself except for sleeping.

_“Harry, this is not a good idea,”_ Hermione said, Valeria overhearing through the thin walls as she was finishing organizing her new things.

_“But she might know something,”_ Harry replied. They were getting closer.

_“She’s been here most of the summer, I doubt she knows-”_ Hermione said, but was cut off by a soft knock on the door. Valeria quickly stood and patted down her clothes.

“Come in,” she called. The door slowly creaked open and Harry, Ron, and Hermione stood in the doorway with various levels of nervous expression. “Can I help you?”

“Can we talk? Just for a few minutes?” Hermione asked. They appeared to be led by Potter, but he had yet to work up the courage to say a word. In fact, Valeria didn’t think they exchanged words once since they met at the Leaky Cauldron.

“Of course,” Valeria said, politely. The three Gryffindors crammed themselves onto the bed across from Valeria.

“We-um…Well, when we were in-” Hermione began.           

“We ran into Malfoy in Diagon Alley,” Harry said, directly to Valeria who turned her head sharply to meet his gaze. _Draco._ She had not thought of the possibility that he’d be there at the same time. She got angry for not being allowed to journey with the others once again. She could have seen him, talked to him, tried to explain. But the thought of meeting him again also scared her.

“And how was he?” she asked, failing to come up with a snide response to shield herself. It was a genuine question, she wanted to know. 

“An ass, as usual,” Ron said.

“I’m sorry he wasn’t perfectly polite after all that’s happened. That must have been so difficult for you,” Valeria snapped. If they had come here just to insult him she would not abide it.

“He asked about you when we found him and his mother in Madam Malkins. Asked if we knew anything about where you were, which we denied,” Harry said.

“I don’t think he believed us though,” Ron said. 

“That’s to be expected,” Valeria said. Was it that terribly surprising that Draco didn’t trust them worth a damn?

“Yeah, and then he nearly killed us over it. His mother threatened Harry and everything!” Ron said. Again, Valeria was not surprised. Narcissa was never as good at holding her tongue as Odessa was, a trait that Draco had seemed to inherit from her.

“I hardly see how any of this is my problem,” Valeria said. She could not deny she was curious, desperate for any information on Draco as she could get, but not like this. This was pointless.

“There’s more,” Harry said, proceeding to explain everything that happened in Knockturn Alley and his suspicions, which Valeria listened to with open ears. She admitted, only to herself, that his behavior was slightly abnormal, but what Harry implied about Draco’s left arm was beyond her patience. 

“Are you suggesting that Draco is a Death Eater?” Valeria asked.

“I’m saying it is a possibility, given how he was acting-” Potter said. Valeria laughed at how preposterous it was.

“That’s not possible. There is no way in hell You-Know-Who would recruit a teenage wizard who has yet to do anything fame worthy or otherwise remarkable. You’re losing your mind, Potter,” Valeria said. The jab appeared to hurt Harry a little, especially after being called a lunatic all last year.

“But his arm, there was something on his arm,” Potter said.

“Maybe he was just trying to scare you, maybe she did prick him, who knows. Did you actually see anything? Can you be absolutely sure it was his left arm? Honestly, Potter for what reason would You-Know-Who recruit Draco? It makes no sense!”

“I tried to tell him,” Hermione explained. 

“But then why was he in Borgin and Burkes buying stuff?” Harry asked.

“Because his father has been a patron for years. Maybe he’s doing something on his behalf. Maybe he just wanted to buy stuff! Going to a shop isn’t a crime,” Valeria insisted. 

“How do you explain the blood magic? He was supposed to think of someone. Maybe he wants to hurt that person,” Harry said.

“If that were true, it would be you, most likely. Just avoid him and you’ll be fine,” Valeria said, rolling her eyes.

“There has to be a reason-”

“I’m sure he has his reasons, but I don’t know them. I haven’t spoken to him since that day in Umbridge’s office, nor have I heard from him. I don’t have secret Death Eater knowledge. I have no doubt Draco would jump at the chance to join their ranks, he’s probably especially hungry for vengeance, but his eagerness is exactly why he wouldn’t be recruited. Not yet at least. You are dead wrong about this, Potter. For all of our sakes, for all we’ve been through, I am kindly asking you to drop it,” Valeria ranted.

“Harry, she’s right,” Hermione said gently after a moment, to Harry’s disappointment. Harry got up to leave, his friends following him.

“You’re not the only one who lost someone that night, y’know,” Harry said from the doorway.

“You lost a man you knew for a couple years. We lost nearly everything we’ve ever known,” Valeria said with spiteful bitterness. Harry began to say something, likely very unkind words, but Ron shut the door harder than was necessary before he had the chance. 

Valeria and Harry did not speak for the rest of her stay at the Weasley’s, she barely exchanged words with anyone. Valeria was itching to leave as the first of September approached, seeing the light at the end of the tunnel made her anxious that it would be ripped away from her. Despite the unsurprising story the Gryffindors had about their encounter with Draco, her mind swirled with thoughts of him. He was closer now than ever and her thoughts and emotions were narrowing onto him. He was the last remaining piece of her old life, the one she grew up living by his side, and she needed it back. Losing him would be to lose everything.

 

Ginny sneered a tad as Valeria’s things were loaded into the Ministry cars, possibly noticing Valeria’s higher quality trunk and large amount of belongings by comparison. Ginny must have not remembered that this was all Valeria had left in the world, at least for now. She was relieved to be leaving, her stay feeling like an inescapable bad dream turned hazy delirium. 

“May I go now?” Valeria asked Mr. and Mrs. Weasley after they had stepped onto the platform, the Hogwarts Express looking especially glorious, like an oasis in a desert.

“Yes, Valeria,” Mr. Weasley said. She offered her hand to shake, which the couple reluctantly did, seeming pleasantly surprised.

“I thank you for your hospitality,” Valeria said. 

“It was our pleasure,” Mrs. Weasley said. Valeria knew she was lying as she left them to say their goodbyes to their children and to Potter, but it did not matter to her now. It was over. Valeria stepped onto the train, already filling with nervous and excited students, all looking happier to see their friends alive and well than in previous years. Valeria’s relief began to dissipate as the stares came. Her face had been all over the papers early in the summer and more than one of her peers had done a double take as they passed her. It was becoming too daunting, too overwhelming already and she searched desperately for a completely vacant compartment. She hadn’t too much trouble in finding one and others who had been about to knock to ask if they could join her had walked away when they saw her, realizing who she was. It would have hurt if she had not needed this solitude. Her friends were here, Draco was here, she wanted to find them, but she couldn’t bring herself to open that compartment door. 

Until someone opened it for her. 

“Valeria!”

It was Daphne, panting, as if she had been running, and wide eyed. Valeria’s mouth turned into a smile on instinct and she leapt up to meet her friend's embrace. Daphne had never hugged her like that, no one had for a long time. Tracey and even Pansy had filed in after Daphne, each taking turns hugging Valeria and expressing their relief at seeing her again.

“God, I’m so happy. I was so worried. We were all so worried!” Daphne said as all the girls sat down. “Are you okay? What happened? No one would tell us anything! My father went to the Ministry and everything, but nothing!”

When the girls had settled, Valeria recounted her story to her eager friends, careful to keep it consistent and not to reveal that she had volunteered to go to the Department of Mysteries. She skimmed on some details, but overall emphasized how miserable the summer was, how she was functioning as best as could be expected, how she missed them all very much. 

“I can’t believe they did all that to you,” Pansy said, gobsmacked at how Valeria had to stay at the Weasleys. 

“Couldn’t exactly go home. It’s all such a mess. Have any of you heard about my mother?”

“Not a word,” Daphne said. “All I heard was that she’s been back and forth between Wales and Malfoy Manor.”

Valeria perked upon hearing that. Draco had likely seen her mother. He was on this train… 

A younger girl, probably third year or so knocked hesitantly on the door. Daphne opened it and the girl looked at Valeria.

“Are you Valeria Winters?” she asked shyly.

“What’s it to you?” Pansy said.

“I just have this,” the girl said, handing Valeria a scroll. Valeria thanked her and the girl walked off in a rush.

 

_Valeria,_

_I would like to extend you an invitation to join me for lunch in compartment C. It would be a pleasure to see you again._

_Sincerely, Professor H.E.F. Slughorn_

Slughorn, the new professor, she remembered now. Hermione had told her about it, apparently Potter already met the man. Her parents had talked about him too, being his former students, and Valeria remembered him coming around for dinner a time or two when she was very young. The memory saddened her, as well as the thought of having to share a meal with the man in light of her family’s allegiances.

“That’s a bit…creepy, don’t you think?” Pansy said. Valeria had read them the invitation and explained who Slughorn was.

“He’s very well connected though,” Tracey offered. “A letter of recommendation from Slughorn can get you an in almost anywhere.”

Tracey had a point. He was old, sure, but getting on Slughorn’s good side was one step in mending her sullied reputation, at least potentially.

“I better go. See what it’s all about at least. I’ll catch up with you after,” Valeria said, standing up. Daphne stood with her.

“Before we get to Hogwarts, you should find Draco,” Daphne said.

“Yeah, I know,” she said guiltily. She had been putting off the prospect of seeing him, though she desperately wanted to. If she didn’t seek him out, nothing could go wrong. She was too anxious, too terrified. Too little of her old self remained to face him.

“He’s been writing us constantly, all of us. Asking if we’ve heard from you. Just talk to him,” Daphne pleaded. Valeria nodded and dismissed herself. First, she would get through lunch, then face Draco.


	5. Return

_"You used me!" she spat, having nothing else within her sore and mangled spirit but rage._

_"I had no choice!"_

_*****_

When Valeria reached compartment C, she was relieved to see that she was not the only student invited.

“Valeria Winters!” Slughorn greeted with enthusiasm. He was much older than she remembered and much too friendly for her current mood, but she knew she had to play along. Soft smiles and eye contact, it really was that simple, but now it felt like moving mountains. Just keep playing along with soft smiles and eye contact. “My, how you’ve grown! But I'd still recognize you anywhere, you look so much like Odessa.” 

“It is so good to see you again, sir. It’s been far too long,” Valeria said, shaking his hand.

“Yes, indeed,” he said, his smile dropping. “I am very sorry for all that you have been through. You have managed so well.”

“I appreciate that. Thank you,” Valeria said, the words burning through her. She had witnessed death, been alone without a friend the world, and spent the remainder of the summer with people who at best were suspicious of her. She would hardly call that managing well. Slughorn invited her to sit and it was only then that she got a good look at who else had been invited. To her confusion and dismay, Ginny was there, though the girl looked equally displeased to be together in the same space again. But then she saw Blaise, who though so stern most of the time, actually looked a little happy to see her.

“Hi, Blaise,” she said, sitting eagerly beside him.

He leaned over and whispered in her ear. “It’s good to see you.”

Something in his tone told her he meant it. She liked Blaise. He never asked too many question, though the way he preferred to sit and observe was a bit unnerving. He seemed to know so much about others' lives without ever asking anyone. Valeria always thought it was an intriguing talent. They made a bit awkward small talk as the other students filed in, quietly of course, keeping almost entirely to themselves. She should not have been surprised when Potter walked in, but she was a bit surprised to see Longbottom of all people. Slughorn was, naturally, overjoyed to see Harry as he introduced everyone, but Blaise and Valeria barely acknowledged him.

One by one they were all interrogated, Blaise handled it excellently though perhaps he could have had a bit more enthusiasm; he never liked it when people asked about "Black Widow Zabini." Valeria braced herself for her turn, practicing answers to possible questions in her head.

“Now, Valeria, Professor Snape tells me you are gifted with Potions. The subject is very near and dear to my heart, of course,” Slughorn said.

“That’s kind of Professor Snape to say. Yes, I think Potions is really the most complex form of magic, which is why it’s so powerful and so interesting,” Valeria said. 

“Well said. I believe you have an ancestor on your mother’s side who was a legendary Potions Master, Poine Wenlock. We owe a great deal to her work,” Slughorn said. He had done his research, finding someone far enough back in her lineage not associated with the darker side of magic. 

“Runs in the family, I suppose,” she said cheerfully. Slughorn had moved on and Valeria shared several knowing looks with Blaise as the others were put in the proverbial hot-seat. Blaise was thoroughly fed up when Potter’s turn had come around, but Valeria managed to tune most of it out, having done her song and dance. When Slughorn finally dismissed them, Blaise took Valeria aside, but she had caught Potter keeping his eyes on them. 

“Are you coming to sit with us?” Blaise asked.

She curled her lip inward. “I thought about stopping by.”

“We’d really appreciate it," he said with a sigh. "Malfoy wants to see you, won’t stop fidgeting and being obnoxious. Just come and talk to him.”

“Is he angry with me?” she asked.

He rolled his eyes. “He’s worried, Valeria, not pissed. He wrote all of us at least three times demanding any news or rumors we heard about you. I nearly hexed his owl when I saw it coming to the window by the end of the summer.”

“Yeah, Daphne mentioned,” Valeria said.

“Look you don’t have to stay long. You can tell him whatever you want, I don’t care. If you won’t do it for him, do it for our sakes, for the love of God.”

She let out a little laugh. “You are as persuasive as ever. I’ll follow you back.”

They didn’t speak as Blaise led her toward the compartment. Her heart was pounding. The time had come to face him, not knowing what to expect. He was both the first and last person she wanted to see. Blaise opened the compartment door for her and there he was, sitting across from Crabbe and Goyle, of course.

“Look who I found,” Blaise said as she stepped forward. The door jammed and Blaise contended with it as Draco stood to see her. He was wide-eyed and staring at her, looking both relieved and worried. She could barely look at him.

“Hello, Draco,” she said, glancing up to meet his eyes.

“Give us a moment,” Draco said, the look in his eyes brought her to shame, the way he stared directly into her with an unbreakable steely gaze, fear swirling into something resembling anger.

“I’ve only just sat down,” Blaise groaned.

Draco rolled his eyes. “There’ll be plenty of time for you to sit at the feast. Valeria and I need to talk.”

Blaise sighed. “Come on, guys. We can go visit the girls.” Crabbe and Goyle obliged and followed him out. Draco cast a silencing charm over the door when it slid shut behind their friends and he turned to face her.

“I-I’m so-” she began, but he had grabbed hold over before she could finish. He drew her to him, an arm around her waist and his other hand cradling the back of her head that was pressed against his shoulder. His forehead rested upon the top of her head, and she noticed his height. He had grown again over their time apart, as young men of his age did. She inhaled the smell of his musk or cologne, thankful he had finally learned that less is more. It was the first time she felt a semblance of safety since June 18th. With a nervous hesitation, she reciprocated his embrace and he only held on more desperately, as if she would be torn from his grasp at any moment, as if this moment was so fleeting as to be forgotten.

He let go slowly, with a palpable reluctance, after a moment there and brushed her hair back away from her face, looking into her eyes in that way that made her want to run and hide again.

 “You look well,” he said, more to himself than to her. He looked nice too, in his own way. He did look more tired, more haggard. The times had taken their toll on both of them, and even her glamors could not conceal her hurt completely; Draco seemed to see right through them. She felt her guard falling down, like he was laying his traps again, and his look intensified. “Where have you been?” He asked sternly, she was forced to look at him, the faint glisten of tears in his eyes that he choked back made hers well up to.

“We can do this later,” she said.

“I want to talk now,” he insisted. “How could you do something so stupid? Do you know what could have happened to you? Do you understand how worried I’ve been?”

“Blaise mentioned. Daphne too,” she said in a little voice.

“Where did you go?” he demanded.

“Home first, then to the Leaky Caldron,” she said. He stepped back.

“Don’t lie. I was there. I dragged my mother to every shop asking after you and no one had seen you!” he said. He pulled a small photograph from his pocket and handed it to her. It was her likeness, a cutout of the posed photograph from a year ago to the day. She was smiling, standing tall, happy. Just a year old, the picture looked as though it had aged a decade. It had been folded at least a dozen times, the edges were softened, and the corners were bent. White lines of the paper underneath the image appeared in the creases where it had been folded or scratched up. He had to have held onto it ceaselessly. “I showed that to everyone I talked to. No one had seen you.”

She handed the picture back to him, unable to bear looking at it, longing too much for that innocent sweetness. “I paid off the innkeeper in case anyone would come after me. I managed to withdraw enough to get me through part of the summer before the goblins froze the account.”

He looked baffled. “I checked Madam Malkins, Flourish and Blotts, the Menagerie. Everywhere! How did you get supplies?”

“I paid them off who I had too. The supplies were bought later, after I was found. It was…complicated. At first, I was mainly worried about about the Ministry coming for me, but it seems they had larger problems, fortunately.” She shrugged. He looked enraged.

“ _Fortunately_?! Don’t be so nonchalant about this! This is not a game!”

It was her turn to be angry. “Don’t you think I know that? Why do you think I hid in the first place? What was I supposed to do? I couldn’t go home after what happened to my father and brother and there wasn’t anyone I could to turn to.”

“Really? There was no one?” He said flatly.

“Draco, you can’t be serious."

“You could have, you _should_ have, come to me. You could have stayed with us-”

“With you? After what happened to your father? After all that happened, how was I supposed to know you’d even want to see me ever again? I didn’t exactly think I’d be welcomed in your home with open arms-”

“Don’t be daft. You’re the only person I wanted to see. I don’t care that you got caught up in all that. What Konstantin and your father did…that wasn’t your fault. I nearly murdered Potter over it when you disappeared! And my mother loves you, she would have made sure you were safe.”

“She would have turned me over to my mother the second I arrived. I couldn't trust her.”

“We could have discussed it. We could have figured something out, but _you_ ran off!”

“I was scared, Draco! I lost everything that night and I panicked. I thought if I ran, I’d be safe until the term began. At least no one tried to hunt me down, beyond you hounding shopkeepers.”

He said nothing, but reached for a satchel on the rack above the seat and grabbed a handful of letters tied together with string. He handed them to her, all closed with the Malfoy seal and all addressed to her.

“I understand. But don’t you ever say I didn’t try,” he said.

“Unsent letters?” She asked.

“Every letter I wrote to you this summer. All returned to me unopened. I’d write every few days, the letter would return, I’d get discouraged, then I’d write another one in a day or so.”

She felt shame again. “I thought of writing to you, every day. I just, I was too scared of being discovered, of getting too involved. I couldn’t risk it.” She handed them back.

“Keep them. Read them if you care.” 

“I do care,” she said glaring at him. He exhaled, calming himself down.

“You stay at Leaky Caldron until today?” He asked.

“No. I wasn’t there long. Dumbledore found me in July and brought me to the Weasley house. Been there ever since,” she said. A look of absolute disgust formed on his face.

“So, Potter was lying. I knew it. Dumbledore probably knew you were there the entire time and said nothing, the bastard. And then he brought you _there_? He thought _that_ was the safest place to bring you? And I’m sure they loved that, a Death Eater’s daughter under their roof.”

“They tried, at least to my face, but it was very tense.”

He rolled his eyes. “Of course. That’s the kind of people they are. They’ll be nice to your face, use you and tell you it’s all for good, and then not trust you worth a damn.”

“That’s not exactly what I meant. But I suppose you’re not entirely wrong.”

“I understand completely. You don’t belong with those people. You’re not one of them.”

“Am I one of you?”

“You always have been. What have I been telling you for years? No one blames you for what went on at the Ministry. You were used.”

“I didn’t fight for either side, Draco,” she admitted without revealing the whole truth. It was better to lie for she could not lose him now, but she had to test the waters a little. Was he only her friend because of proximity? Because of who he believed her to be? Or did he really care?

“You were caught in a trap that wasn’t meant for you.”

“I-I’m just so confused and tired,” she said, tears welling in her eyes again thinking about the Department of Mysteries. The guilt, the fear, the death.

He put his hands on her shoulders. “Listen, things will be better after this year, like how they were. I’ll be in a much better position, and we’ll both be a lot better off.” Something in how he spoke sent warning bells off in her mind and made her stomach sink.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“I mean that we’ll both be of age, things will have blown over and if all goes well, we’ll be free of all of this. Just no more disappearing. Keep a low profile for now. If something goes wrong, you come to me first.”

“What are you talking about?” she insisted.

“I can’t tell you much. Just that I have an opportunity to make things better for us. But I do need you to promise me that you won’t scare me like that ever again. And I need you to trust me. Do you promise?”

She looked up at him, feeling in her heart that things were going to get worse and hoping against hope she was wrong. But he looked at her with such sincere desperation. Something seemed as if it were starting to crack and break within him, and though she was in no state to make any promises to anyone, she could not deny him even a little peace of mind. After all, his world had been torn apart just as hers had. Pushing him away now would have been cruel to them both, and she was too selfish to attempt it. It was bound to be a terrible school year, and she would not make it worse for herself or for him. But his words worried her more than she cared for. Whatever he was hiding, he was not as stealthy as he believed himself to be. Perhaps she had known him long enough to see right through any wall he could ever attempt to build.

She nodded slowly. “I promise,” she whispered like an evening prayer.

Their housemates soon returned and Draco permitted them entry. In what would appear to be a carefully rehearsed act, both him and Valeria returned to cordial demeanors, choking back the severity of their private conversation.

“So, what did Slughorn want?” Draco asked as they all resettled in their seats.

“Just trying to make up to well-connected people,” said Blaise. “not that he managed to find any.”

“Who else had he invited?” Draco demanded.

“McLaggen from Gryffindor,” said Blaise.

“Oh yeah, his uncle’s big in the Ministry,” Draco said.

“-someone else called Belby from Ravenclaw. Longbottom, Potter, and that Weasley girl,”

“He invited Longbottom?”  

“Well, I assume so as Longbottom was there,” said Blaise.

“What’s Longbottom got to interest Slughorn?” Draco asked.

“Slughorn just wanted to know what happened in the Department of Mysteries, but he had the decorum to leave me out of it,” she said. “It was just a silly party, if you can even call it that. It was terribly dull,” Valeria said. Blaise nodded to her in agreement.

"Potter, precious Potter, obviously he wanted a look at the _Chosen One_ , but that Weasley girl! What's so special about her?"

“She’s gifted enough, but for the most part she’s just a huge pain in the ass,” Valeria said.

“Well, I pity Slughorn’s tastes. Maybe he’s going a bit senile. Shame, my father always said he was a good wizard in his day. My father used to be a favorite of his. Slughorn probably hasn’t heard I’m on the train, or-”

“I wouldn’t bank on an invitation. He asked me about Nott’s father when I first arrived. They used to be old friends, apparently, but when he heard he’d been caught at the Ministry he didn’t look happy, and Nott didn’t get an invitation, did he? I don’t think Slughorn’s interested in Death Eaters.” Blaise said. Valeria glared at Blaise, who was always more honest than necessary.

“Then why did he invite me?” Valeria asked.

“You weren’t _really_ part of all that, were you?” Blaise said.

“Well, who cares what he’s interested in? What is he, when you come down to it? Just some stupid teacher, I mean, I might not even be at Hogwarts next year, what’s it matter to me if some fat old has-been likes more or not?” Draco said. 

Valeria looked at him alarmed, almost terrified and remembering what he said to her privately. Her intense attention was entirely fixed on Draco. “What do you mean?”

He refused to look her in the eye. “Well, you never know. I might have moved on to bigger and better things.” Valeria’s gaze was unrelenting. She remembered Potter’s suspicions. Had Harry been righter than she thought or was Draco talking himself up to soothe his bruised ego? She could hardly tell anymore and that frightened her.

“Care to enlighten us?” Valeria asked, her tone colored with darkness. Draco looked at her, gathered himself and looked away. He shrugged.

“Mother wants me to complete my education, but personally, I don’t see it as that important these days. I mean, think about it…when the Dark Lord takes over, is he going to care how may O.W.L.s or N.E.W.T.s anyone’s got? Of course he isn’t…it’ll be all about the kind of service he received, the level of devotion he was shown.”

She stared at Draco as if he was some kind of strange creature she had never encountered before. It was her turn to fear for _him_.

“And you think you’ll be able to do something for him? Sixteen years old and not even fully qualified yet?” Blaise asked.

“I’ve just said, haven’t I? Maybe he doesn’t care if I’m qualified. Maybe the job he wants me to do isn’t something that you need to be qualified for,” said Draco.

“And what would that be?” Valeria asked, impatience dripping from her words.

“I’m talking about the future.” Draco said vaguely.

“Do you have even the slightest idea what you’re talking about?”  

“Perhaps not the best timing, Malfoy.” Blaise said. Draco and Valeria shared a look and he seemed to register her warning gaze as he changed the subject.

“I can see Hogwarts. We better get our robes on,” Draco said. Valeria stood.

“Mine are in another compartment,” she said and turned to Draco. “I’ll wait for you?”

“Yeah, sure,” Draco said. Something seemed to bother him a bit, but Valeria didn’t pretend to guess at what it was this time. She nodded to Blaise, but didn’t bother to look at Crabbe or Goyle, who grew more intolerable with each passing year, even in silence. She made her way back down the aisles, which were largely deserted as students were getting ready thankfully and finally reached the one with the other Slytherin girls.

“You were gone a while. How’d it go?” Daphne asked, pulling on her school robes.

“About as well as expected, but we’re on the same page now. I think,” Valeria said, getting her own robes.

“Better than being at each other’s throats for yet another year,” Tracey said.

 

She let her friends go on ahead of her as she waited by the train for Draco to emerge. Students passed her, some stared a little, but Valeria continued to wait, watching the exits. She started to worry, irrationally, when Draco did not get off the train. She caught Blaise’s arm as he passed.

“Where’s Draco?” she asked. Zabini shrugged.

“Told us to go ahead. He wanted to check on something and I didn’t ask,” he said. Blaise departed as did most of the other students while Valeria just kept on waiting. And waiting. And waiting. Until finally, he stepped off the train.

“What took you so long?” Valeria asked, agitated. 

“Just making sure I had all my things. Come on,” he said. He put a hand on the small of her back and led her away. They made their way, alone, to the carriages and Valeria relished the peace and quiet, looking up at the castle towering above them. She felt both dread and relief. Finally safe with people she cared about, but also the unknown dangers that were sure to await her this year made her want to run again. But the castle could be beautiful and she remembered with a sad nostalgia the little place at the shore of the Black Lake where she and Draco had shared so much and time flew too fast. She was jolted out of her thoughts at the sight of a monster and she yelped, flinging herself backwards.

"What's wrong?" Draco asked as he steadied her. She pointed her finger at the front of the carriages.

"What the hell is that?!" she said. He looked over and then back to her confused. 

"There's nothing there," he said. But he was wrong. Dead wrong. A shadowy, sinewy beast stood there calmly in the darkness with black skin. Horse like and-Horse like...

She relaxed, remembering. "Thestrals, of course," she said. Draco looked again, but seeing nothing turned to give her a sad look.

"Right. Nott always saw them, I remember. Valeria, I'm sorry," he said. 

"It's fine. Let's get a move on," she said. He assisted her into the carriage and they rode along in silence. She rode on the back of one of them all the way to London, not knowing it would be the last night they'd be invisible to her. Hagrid had been right about something, for once, though she could not say she would miss his classes. She had to admit, they did have a sort of captivatingly dark elegance about them. She wondered if the one she saw now was the very one she rode.

She and Draco settled at the feast beside each other, after passing the tedious security checks. Valeria tuned out the sorting ceremony, but felt a cynical bitterness at the thought of uniting the houses. Draco was right: She was one of them and she was in Slytherin. That was where her loyalties would lie. She spent much of the meal assuring her curious classmates that she was fine, she hadn’t been missing all that long, it was a boring story as opposed to harrowing adventure. It grew exhausting having to dodge their questions and she barely picked at her food as a result.

But soon enough, Potter walked in not even wearing his school robes and with a face covered with blood. She had half a mind to thank him for deflecting the attention away from her. She hadn’t noticed he was gone, but as Draco laughed at Potter’s misfortune, she remembered how he too had been late to get off the train.

“Did you do that?” Valeria asked. Draco nodded with delight, still laughing. “Why?!”

“A kick in the ribs for you, the broken nose for my father,” Draco said with pride. “He was spying on us from the rack of our compartment under that damn cloak of his. Followed you in with Zabini.”

Draco regaled the story of the assault to the amusement of the others at the table while Valeria looked over at Potter. He was already suspicious of Draco, and now he had overheard more juicy details that likely would compel him further. If this plan was so secret that even Valeria couldn’t know, why would Draco spill so much in the presence of _Potter_?

“…I implore you, should you notice anything strange or suspicious within or outside the castle, to report it to a member of staff immediately. I trust you to conduct yourselves, always, with the utmost regard for your own and others' safety,” Dumbledore said near the end of his speech.

Valeria’s hunch was right. This would be an awful year. Draco and Valeria walked down to the dungeons afterwards with the others, side by side.

“Why aren’t you on Prefect duty?” she whispered to him. He shrugged.

“More important things to do. Why weren’t you singing in the choir?” he asked.

“I intend on quitting,” she told him. She decided weeks ago to end her time with the choir. She didn’t need anymore distractions if she could barely concentrate on reading a book. She also had little interest in mingling with students who weren’t in her own house, fearing their judgement. The common room was bustling with activity. Friends gabbing and laughing, hugging and joking. Valeria took a seat off to the side, away from most of the others, already overwhelmed from being around so many people at the feast. To her surprise, Draco sat with her.

“Are you a total moron?” she asked, unable to contain it any longer.

“What are you on about?”

“Letting Potter eavesdrop on us? Beating him afterwards? You know he’s already been suspicious of you,” she told him.

“What do you mean?”

“He saw you in Diagon Alley. Him, Ron and Hermione followed you to Borgin and Burkes under his cloak. They told me after, trying to see if I knew what you were up to,” she said. Draco looked surprised, but kept composure.

“And what did Potter see?”

“Not much. Just that you bought things, something about blood magic. Who knows. It all sounded like nonsense, and I told him as much. But he seems to think that you’ve…joined the ranks,” Valeria told him. His expression eased and he smirked.

“I wanted him to hear. I wanted him to know I’m coming for him. I wanted him to know that he’ll never be able to do what he did to us ever again,” Draco said.

“Whatever you’re doing-Don’t interrupt me, dammit-I know you won’t tell me, but you have to watch your back. Once Potter gets an idea in his head, he doesn’t stop. He’s dangerous,” Valeria warned. She meant it this time. If his relentlessness in previous years was anything to go by, she doubted he'd let Draco off easy this time.

“Thank you for your concern. I can handle this,” Draco said.

“Time for the picture!” Pansy said, coming over to their table. Valeria looked over to the fireplace, seeing the other sixth years gathering around with a fourth year they recruited to hold the camera.

“Must we?” Valeria said.

“We can’t do it without _you_. Especially since you’ve been missing all summer!” Pansy said. It seemed so trivial and pointless, she couldn’t even feign the necessary enthusiasm. Draco rose and held out his hand.

“Come on. It’ll make my mother happy,” he said. She took his hand and followed to stand before the fireplace with the others. Draco stood beside her, snaking his left hand around her shoulder as the camera flashed and a chill jolted up her spine.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, all. I hope you forgive me cutting up canon and moving things around a bit. Please assume that the canon events/conversations are occurring around the things we don't see, of course. I don't like putting in huge blocks of text from the books as it just feels redundant, so I apologize if it feels a bit choppy in places. Thanks for reading this far.


	6. Favors

_"Never lie to me again," she said threateningly_

_"Only if you don't," he replied_

_*****_

 

_Dear Valeria,_

_Where are you? What’s happened? Please write me._

_Draco Malfoy_

 

_Valeria,_

_I’m growing tired of this. You don’t have to tell me where you are, just if you’re alive._

_Draco Malfoy_

 

_Dear Valeria,_

_What have they done to you?_

_Draco Malfoy_

 

_Valeria,_

_I’m serious. I could really use a reply right now. Please. I need to know that you’re alright. I mean it._

_Draco Malfoy_

 

Valeria had woken up well before dawn and couldn’t fall back asleep. The dorms didn’t feel the same. The joy and comfort seemed to have been sucked from them, like sleeping in another world. There would be no going back to how it was, she knew. To occupy herself in the dark morning hours, she drew the curtains of her bed and poured over Draco’s returned letters, heart breaking a little more with each one.

The ones toward the end of summer disturbed her. They were much more urgent, much more desperate. He was writing about need and loneliness without ever explaining what exactly he meant. She thought of what Potter told her about Borgin and Burkes; about blood magic and a threatening _something_ on Draco’s left arm. It was foolish to even dream that Draco had the Dark Mark, but the thought ate at her regardless.

She got ready before the rest of the girls and made her way to breakfast alone as early as possible, seeking to get the day on and over with.

“How’d you do on your O.W.L.s?” Draco asked, startling her a little as he sat down beside her. He seemed in good spirits, but looked like he hadn’t slept all that well either. It was strange to be back talking about school matters when just the night before their conversations were far more dire.

“Fine. Better than I hoped. You?”

“About as expected,” he shrugged. They continued discussing classes with the rest of their classmates until breakfast ended and Professor Snape approached the sixth-year group to go over schedules.

“Miss Winters, it seems you took my advice in regard to your O.W.L.s. You are cleared for Potions, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Ancient Runes, History of Magic, and Charms if you so choose,” Snape said when it got to her turn.

“I’ll drop History of Magic and enroll in the rest,” she said.

Snape raised his eyebrow. “Have you changed your ambitions since last we spoke?”

“Yes,” she said plainly. The thought of ever entering the Department of Mysteries caused her breakfast to stir in her stomach.

“Fine then. Ancient Runes is a first period course. I suggest you get going,” he said handing her a timetable of her new schedule and Valeria set off for her first class.

 

“Homework already in Ancient Runes. Massive amounts. Maybe Snape will let me drop it,” Valeria told Draco as they made their way down to the dungeons for Potions later that day.

“Doubt it. I’m liking Defense better already though. Potter getting detention is always entertaining,” Draco said. 

“Well-deserved too. God, he’s obnoxious,” Valeria said. She was coming to see how disruptive and annoying having Harry as a classmate was. She imagined that he thought himself a superior teacher after his time with the DA. Rubbish.

“Disappointing that Snape isn’t teaching Potions anymore though. I actually liked it and Slughorn already seems like a buffoon,” Draco said.

“Maybe. But he’s connected with anyone who’s anyone,” Valeria said.

“Why do you care?” He asked as they reached the classroom.

“My family’s name isn’t exactly what it used to be  and I intend to fix that,” Valeria said, lowering her voice as other students began to gather in the corridor.

Draco laughed. “I should have guessed. Your reputation _that_ important to you, even now?”

“My father always said that reputation is currency. You can be impoverished, but if you’re held in high regard, you’ll do well. Anything can be done on reputation alone.” 

Draco shook his head. “Once a Winters, always a Winters.”

Valeria had found her mission, a goal for the year to pursue relentlessly. Simply get in Slughorn's good graces and stay there. He would soon spread word about what a good and charming student she was. That would help save her, aid her future, no matter the outcome of this war. So long as everyone thought highly of her, she was untouchable. 

“What’re _they_ doing here?” Draco asked. Valeria looked up to see Ron and Harry approaching, tagging along with Hermione. Valeria rolled her eyes. Hermione’s presence was naturally expected, but Ron and Harry always seemed to have a deep disdain for Potions.

“Potter got an E on his Potions O.W.L. Ron too, I think. They were talking about how they weren’t continuing Potions at the Weasley house,” Valeria said. Draco scoffed.

“Snape mentioned Slughorn accepts E’s for the N.E.W.T level. Just wonderful,” Draco said. When they were finally let into the classroom, Valeria was bombarded by swirling scents from the vapors emitting from cauldrons that Slughorn had set out. The power of smell was something that Snape had emphasized in previous years, as it is the most underrated sense in terms of usefulness. Smell can jog memory better than sight or sound, can shift mood on an instant, and signal to the mind what words cannot. Valeria noticed that the first two were already happening to her, feeling a little more at ease based on the pleasant smells in the air. She noticed the unmistakable scent of freshly laundered linens, the greenish smell of lake water that was hard to describe but reminded her of home, and a musky smell that felt so close, yet so far away.

“Why does it smell like lilacs in here?” Draco asked as they settled at a table with the other Slytherins. She raised a brow at him. 

“It doesn’t,” she said. “Did you put on too much cologne again?” she asked, as the musky smell was slightly overpowering sitting next to him. He hadn’t the chance to answer before Slughorn began his lesson. She took the time to scan who had progressed to this level of Potions and of course she would have to share another class with Terry Boot. She had hardly thought of him in light of everything that happened since they ended their silly little romance, but seeing him was a cutting reminder of just how foolish she had been only months ago. Of course, Hermione had to raise her hand to answer every question, which was quickly becoming ever more irritating. Valeria admired Hermione’s intelligence, probably her best quality, but never agreed with her methods. Reading books and regurgitating information in class as she did was not the cleverest thing Hermione could do.

 _“Flaunt nothing,”_ her father always told her. Being smart was well and good, but keeping one’s cards close, being underestimated awarded the greater advantage and allowed Valeria not to be mistaken as a know-it-all. Besides, Hermione put far too much effort into her schoolwork. Why take all the time to do so much work if it didn’t serve you in some capacity? Knowledge for knowledge’s sake was just plain silly, and something Valeria could never really grasp. So while Valeria had recognized the Veritaserum and the Polyjuice Potion, she did not compete with Hermione to name them. Far too much effort.

The Amortentia made her blush when she realized what it was. Draco, thankfully, hadn’t been wearing any extra cologne, but she had embarrassed herself asking him about it. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye and even he had a tinge of pink in his cheeks. At least the embarrassment was mutual. His blush faded when Slughorn introduced the Felix Felicis and Draco gave the Professor his undivided attention. She too was interested in it, she could have used it back in June.

Draco moved swiftly to craft his Draught of Living Death, hardly paying any mind to what the rest of the class was doing. Valeria worked diligently, but not as hard, the effort being too exhausting given her lack of sleep the night before.

“Very good, Valeria. You’re ahead of schedule! Seems you were correct that your aptitude runs in the family!” Slughorn said, looking over her work.

“Thank you, sir,” Valeria said with a humble smile. 

“Sir, I think you knew my grandfather, Abraxas Malfoy?" Draco asked.

"Yes," said Slughorn, still eyeing Valeria’s potion. "I was sorry to hear he had died, although of course it wasn't unexpected, dragon pox at his age... " Draco looked annoyed as Slughorn moved along to examine other cauldrons.

“Perhaps don’t be so obvious,” Valeria suggested with a whisper. He didn’t reply, just turned back to his cauldron. By the end of the allotted time, Valeria was satisfied though not proud of her work. She messed up somewhere, just telling by the color, but she couldn’t quite figure out where. She was floored when Potter of all people was pronounced the winner while Draco sulked beside her.

 

“How did Potter do that?” Valeria asked, seated for dinner in the Great Hall. “He’s always been so terrible at Potions.”

Draco said. “Are you really surprised? He’s been Slughorn’s clear favorite. Not like that’s anything new.” He could have been right, Valeria thought. Potter always did get off easy with teachers, excepting Snape of course. “Maybe Slughorn gave him tips ahead of time. Wouldn’t surprise me.”

Pansy walked over and placed two identical photographs beside her and Draco’s plates. Last night’s fireplace picture, developed and ready to be sent home. Valeria thanked Pansy and looked at it. The difference between this and previous years’ was remarkable. She looked uncomfortable, her smile forced. She hated seeing herself like that.

She took the time to get ahead on her Ancient Runes homework that evening, as she hadn’t looked over it at all during her free period. She became so engrossed that she hadn’t realized how late it’d become and looked up to find the common room completely deserted. Exhausted, she gathered her things but looked up when the entrance opened. In walked Draco Malfoy, wand in hand, dressed in outdoor clothing. He looked surprised to see her.

“Didn’t expect you to still be up,” he said, tucking his wand away.

“Didn’t expect you to be _out_ ,” Valeria said, looking him up and down. She hadn’t even noticed him slip out after dinner. “Where’ve you been?” 

“Out for a walk. Is that so wrong?” Draco said.

“After curfew and with all the new security measures it is,” Valeria said. He laughed. 

“Worse comes to worse, I’ll get detention. Honestly, who cares?”

She was too tired to argue with him. “Fine. Suit yourself.” She continued gathering her things.

“Wait, before you go…I’m glad I caught you actually, I need a favor,” he said, approaching her and lowering his voice. 

“This early in the year?” she asked.

“I’m serious. I need your help,” he said. His expression surprised her a bit. His eyes were so intense, almost desperate.

“Alright. What is it?” she asked.

“You used to help Snape with the Potions stores, taking inventory and such, yeah?” he asked. That was true, though she had not done so since the first half of last year. He had accepted the help in exchange for advice on Potions, answering questions, and giving her pointers on more advanced work. She got to see some of the more dangerous and difficult Potions in the stores and learn about them, once every couple weeks or so. She nodded to Draco. “I need you to do that again, with Slughorn.”

“My free period is valuable enough as it is with all this homework I’ve got already,” Valeria protested.

“You said yourself you wanted to be in Slughorn’s good graces. What better way than to offer to help with his inventory and stroke his ego a bit?” Draco said. That was a fair point. 

“And how would that help you?” she asked. 

“The favor I actually need is for you to take-” 

“Absolutely not,” she interrupted. 

“Let me finish!”

“How in hell am I supposed to stay on his good side if I _steal_ from him?” she said. 

“If you’re taking the inventory, he won’t even notice!”

“This is insane,” 

“Valeria, please. I’m asking as a friend,” Draco said.

“What do you even need from the stores?” she asked. If he couldn’t brew it himself, it had to be something more complicated and probably more dangerous. He swallowed, as if he didn’t want to say. 

“Polyjuice Potion,” he said. 

“What do you need _that_ for!?” 

“I can’t tell you,” he said. Of course. It was for his task, his plan, his plot. Whatever it was, why would it need Polyjuice Potion?

“My position is precarious enough as it is. I can’t go sticking my neck for you if you won’t even tell me why,” she said. His lip trembled a little bit, threatening to betray something deeper.

“I don’t have another option. I’ll give you whatever you want in return, but know that I’m doing this for the both of us,” Draco said. Something in his tone struck her as she weighed her decision. She pitied him a little, the way he looked, how joyless and severe his expression was. It dawned on her how isolated they both were, even amongst their peers, as it had been their families who had suffered the most after what happened at the Ministry, or so it seemed. Keeping him close, keeping watch over him now was her best move. She didn’t want to do it, but she was unable to resist him in the end. She inhaled deeply as she resigned herself to this task.

“Give me a couple days,” she said. He looked more relieved than he did when they were reunited.

“Thank you. Thank you. I’ll repay you for this. I promise,” he said. She picked up her things and went towards the girls’ dorm.

“You better,” she said. She remembered the photograph in her bag before settling in bed and removed it, staring at it, though it was painful to do so. She debated what to do with it since Pansy gave it to her. She thought of tossing it, but that felt wrong. Stashing it away would also not be ideal as she did not want it in her possession anymore. In the end, the hardest choice seemed for the best. She got out her writing materials and began to scrawl, quickly, so as not to prolong the pain.

Odessa Winters was far from the high energy, loving mother that Mrs. Weasley was. They did not embrace often, nor share loving words too much, at least beyond childhood. Odessa had always appeared to be concerned with training Valeria, maintaining proper appearences than being too motherly. In a way, Valeria preferred it that way. Mrs. Weasley was far too overbearing for her tastes and Odessa's lessons had served her well so far. The Winters never had to say words of love to know they loved each other, the bond ran so much deeper. Saying it too much seemed to cheapen the meaning behind the words. It was not just family, it was legacy that held them together. Legacy made them strong and inseparably bound them to one another.

In these trying times, Valeria had to admit that she missed her mother dearly and being around Mrs. Weasley most of the summer had made that pain worse. She felt almost orphaned.

_Dear Mother,_

_Enclosed you will find the photograph of all the sixth-year students that was taken upon arrival to Hogwarts. I thought you should have it._

_Please don’t worry about me. I’m safe at school and keeping myself occupied with classes and keeping my friends close._

_I hope you’re alright._

_I’m sorry for everything._ _I love you._

_Your Daughter,_

_Valeria Winters_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is much shorter than previous as the next one(s) will take a bit more time for me to work out some details. Thanks for reading.


	7. From Home

_"I gave you everything," she said._

_"I gave you your life."_

_*****_

“Professor, I was wondering if I could have a word,” Valeria said to Professor Slughorn at the end of the Potions lesson the following day.

“Yes, of course. Excellent work today, by the way, as ever” he said cheerfully.

“Thank you, sir. You see, Professor Snape and I had an arrangement last year, part of it anyway. I assisted him in keeping inventory of the stores and in return got to learn about more advanced potion making. It aided my learning a great deal and I was wondering if I could offer my assistance again to you this year. You can speak to him yourself if you like-”

“I think it’s a splendid idea! I could certainly use the help. Why don’t you come by tomorrow after dinner and we can discuss your future in Potions. I have some recommendations I would like to pass along if I may be so bold.”

“That’s very kind of you, sir. Thank you!”

It was done. It was startling how easily lying came to her and how little guilt she felt over it. She and Draco were on their own now, it seemed, and she was working with him. He said he was doing—whatever it was he was doing—for her too. It meant that she owed him a debt. A simple exchange, that’s all it was. What was a little Polyjuice Potion in the face of the safety that Draco promised would come when this was over? She caught up with Draco on the way to Charms.

“I’m taking inventory for Slughorn tomorrow evening,” she whispered.

“It went that well?” he asked.

“Convincing him was almost too easy. I have to wonder why you didn’t volunteer yourself.”

“He already likes you, I haven’t the time, and you’re far more charming than I am,” Draco shrugged.

“Miss Winters, a moment after class please?” Flitwick said as Valeria settled in her seat beside Draco. Valeria nodded.

“Valeria Winters in trouble?” Draco said sarcastically. 

“Shut up,” she said. After yet another class dedicated to drilling wordless spells, Valeria approached Flitwick.

“You wanted to see me?”

“I got your note regarding the choir and I wanted to talk over your decision to quit,” Flitwick said, holding the note Valeria had sent to him by way of a Slytherin first year as courier.

“With all due respect, there isn’t much to discuss,” she said, saving face, trying not to appear guilty or pained. 

“Miss Winters, you are a valued member of the choir. You’ve been involved since your second year. And, after what you’ve been through, perhaps it would benefit you to have a creative outlet,” he reasoned.

“To speak frankly, sir, with all I’ve been through I’m struggling enough to concentrate on my schoolwork. I’m afraid I cannot afford another distraction.”

He looked disappointed. “I understand. But just so you know, there will always be a place for you, should you change your mind.”

“I appreciate that, sir. Thank you,” Valeria said, turning quickly and marching off. It was the truth. She simply didn’t have the heart for the choir anymore. What was the point? She could not bear to think of standing there with the other choir members, knowing that they thought of her, uncomfortable in her presence, whispering behind her back. Quitting altogether was the easiest way to save everyone the trouble.

The next evening after dinner Valeria knocked on Slughorn’s door down in the dungeons.

“Miss Winters! Come in, I’ll show you to the stores,” he said. She thanked him and followed. He handed her the book and quill used to document the inventory and unlocked the door. “I don’t expect you to get through it all this evening. Start wherever you like and we’ll have a little chat afterwards.”

Valeria did as she was told, passing the ingredients which were much more tedious to catalogue, and made her way down to the carefully stored cauldrons, all labeled and neatly placed. Not much had changed since doing this under Professor Snape’s guidance and she was grateful that, like Snape, Slughorn didn’t want to stick around for the mind-numbing task. She wrote down the labels, amounts, and date noted for each of the cauldrons as she made her way down the line.

 

_Confusing Concoction_

_1 Full Cauldron_

_4 September 1996_

_Pepperup Potion_

_2 Full Cauldrons_

_4 September 1996_

_Antidote to Uncommon Poisons_

_1 Full Cauldron_

_4 September 1996_

Down the line she went, careful to get each of the amounts correct while trying not to be bombarded by the vapors emitting from the cauldrons and mixing in the dank air. Finally, on a lower shelf read the label _“Polyjuice Potion.”_ Valeria carefully lifted the lid and looked towards the door, listening for footsteps or other sign of approach. She decided to act quickly. She removed her vials, the ones her brother had gifted her last year, and set them out. Silently, she used the ladle beside the cauldron to scoop out the nasty substance into each of the four vials, careful not to spill a single drop of the goopy mess. She cleaned the ladle with a quick spell and set everything she touched back to order, before putting the vials back into her bag wrapped in a scarf she brought with her to prevent them from clinking. 

_Polyjuice Potion_

_1 Cauldron-Mostly Full_

_4 September 1996_

She made her way down the line, cataloguing more and more until she felt enough time had passed so as not to appear suspicious. She existed back to Slughorn’s office and placed the book and quill on his desk. 

“You made a lot of headway! Thank you very much for your help,” he said, glancing over the pages she had documented.

“My pleasure, sir. Is there anything else you need from me?” she asked.

“Yes, I’d like you to look over this list of names when you have a chance. Potions Masters around the world with whom I am acquainted and that, should you continue to progress at your current rate, I’d be happy to recommend them taking you on as an apprentice once you are done with school. Perhaps even a summer program at the end of this year would suit your interests perfectly!” Slughorn explained.

“Thank you, Professor. I’ll see you next class then,” Valeria said, the stolen contents of her bag feeling like they would burn through and reveal themselves, due to her paranoia, if she did not get out of there quickly. She took the letter and set off at a rushed pace towards the Slytherin common and exhaled a sigh of relief once the stony entrance shut behind her.

“How’d it go?” Draco said, his voice startling her. “Didn’t mean to scare you, sorry.”

“It’s alright. It went fine. Let’s go talk,” she said directing him over to a secluded part of the common room by the great windows showcasing the Black Lake. Carefully she removed the potion vials from her bag and discretely passed them to Draco, bundled in her scarf. She was expecting words of gratitude, acknowledgment of the risk she took, and for what she committed herself to in order to maintain the lie. Instead, he frowned as he examined the vials. 

“There’s only four,” he said, covering them back up with the scarf.

“I couldn’t exactly steal an entire cauldron, could I?” 

“I might need more,” he said, looking down.

“More? This is a well-made Polyjuice Potion, that I can tell. Each vial should get you about twelve hours transformation time, if you need less than you can take an antidote or a smaller dose. That’s forty-eight total hours of time. What more could you possibly need?” she said, exasperated. This was unbelievable.

“I’m not sure, which is exactly why I’d rather be safe than sorry. Can you get more?” 

“I am not a petty thief that you can demand errands from, Draco,” she said spitefully. “And no, probably not. Unless Slughorn restocks the Potion, I can’t just keep filling it up until there’s nothing left! I was lucky to get this much for you.” He sighed and ran his fingers through his white blond hair, thinking. “You can always buy it. I’m sure there are some underground markets that sell it discretely.” 

“I can’t leave a trail and I wouldn’t be able to get it into the castle, Valeria. You know that,” Draco said. His expression, the kind of rumination that signaled deep-seated fear. worried her so much so that her anger subsided.

“You could always…brew it yourself,” she said. “The question would be where, of course. It’s not easy to hide and with all the security measures, it’d be almost impossible.” 

“The Room of Requirement,” he said, almost to himself like an idea had struck him. He was right, that was about his only viable option and she had almost forgotten about its existence. 

“There you go then. If for someone reason that I cannot fathom you run low on this supply, just brew it yourself,” she said.

“I think I need another favor…” he said, looking guilty.

“Absolutely not!” she said, taking his meaning.

“But you’re much better at potions than I am. What you make will be more reliable. Doesn’t it take forever to brew? I don’t have time to sit and babysit a cauldron-”

“Oh, and I do? I have the same amount of homework as you and now I have to spend some of my evenings in the potions cellar, no thanks to you!” she argued. He looked at her severely with those eyes that made her melt, but she would not relent this time. She just wanted to keep her head down, stay out of trouble. 

“This is important, Valeria. Deathly important. If I don’t get this done-” he paused, as if catching himself. “You don’t understand how much I need your help right now.”

“Then help me understand. Just tell me-”

“I can’t! I want to, but I can’t. Look, I want to keep you out of this as much as I can, but you’re the only person I can trust in this whole damn place and I need your help. This will benefit you too, in the end. I made you that promise,” he said. His words frightened her. He frightened her. She was so confused and so unwilling, but one look at him, his desperation and mutual fear, ate at her resolve. He was the one who knew more about her than anyone, the one who had stuck by her, the one who seemed to care about her most, at least now. She was too lonely, too broken to resist him.

“I’ll do it _only_ if you’re running low on this supply,” she stated. 

“What about the ingredients?”

“If you don’t want to leave a trail, don’t buy them. Ingredients are easier to steal than potions. I can get them so long as Slughorn doesn’t find out about this,” she said.

“You’d do that?” he asked, surprised that she volunteered.

“I have a feeling that’s going to be just me and you at the end of all this. If you’re doing all this for my sake, at least in part, I should do my part for your sake,” she said. 

The next week or so passed without much incident, at least nothing major. Valeria had gotten through all the potions stores within three evenings and was careful to note for herself the Polyjuice ingredients. Thankfully, she wouldn’t have to spend her nights there for another few weeks, but Slughorn invited her to the first formal dinner of his little club. It was a notion that made her internally groan, but she gracefully accepted. She had taken to staying up late in the night, unable to sleep and trying to do schoolwork until she was completely exhausted. Other than the difficult mornings as a result of sleep deprivation, it seemed to work for her just fine. Draco though, had been more notably distant. He took a sick day from classes once, which was unlike him. He looked as exhausted as she felt, but no one seemed to take notice, too busy adjusting to the new heavy course load themselves.

What ate at her all week was the lack of response from her mother to the letter she had sent many days ago. The anxiety, fear, and above all hurt slowly consumed her as each day passed with no mail. She tried to find a moment alone with Draco to ask about her mother, but could never find him when an opportunity presented himself. It was so unlike him to make himself so scarce, especially during free time which he had always used to socialize. Feeling more alone than ever, she made her way to Slughorn’s soiree. There were the recognizable faces of her peers, of course. McLaggen seemed rather pleased with himself for having been invited and Hermione gave her a shy, weak smile as Valeria made her way to Blaise. 

“Surprised you agreed to come,” she said to him softly. 

“Likewise,” he responded, not one to deal in petty pleasantries.

“Oh, Valeria,” Slughorn said approaching alongside an older man she did not recognize. “I’m so glad you could make it. I’d like to introduce you to Silas Barakov, one of the finest Potions Masters of our age.”

Valeria stood and shook Silas’s hand. “A pleasure, sir. I’ve read some of your work, it’s absolutely fascinating.”

“Silas specializes in poisons, well antidotes mainly,” Slughorn said. 

“Oh, stop Horace. From how highly you’ve spoken of Miss Winters, I’m sure she already knows,” Silas said with a thick Slavic accent. He had a haughty attitude about him, one that Valeria immediately registered as easy to manipulate, not unlike Slughorn himself. Perhaps that was why the two men got on so well. Valeria laughed off the comment as she stood to shake Silas’s hand. 

“Indeed, sir, indeed! I was hoping to get a hold of your latest book, but I’m afraid given the political climate and my rather eventful summer, it has been difficult to do so,” Valeria said. It wasn’t a lie, she had heard of the book and she hadn’t gotten around to reading it, but mainly because she hadn’t particularly cared the past few months.

“Ah, yes! _A Guide to Modern Poisons and their Antidotes_! Fascinating read,” Slughorn said.

“Perhaps I could send you a copy, Miss Winters. With Horace’s permission, of course,” Silas said, to which Slughorn nodded eagerly in response. “So, tell me, young lady, do you have an express interest in poisons?”

“Oh, most definitely. Purely intellectual, of course. What I find most interesting about your work is how you take the time to understand how different cultures develop various poisons and antidotes based upon what’s available in their areas. It’s really a lovely examination of the marriage of theory and praxis,” Valeria said, truthfully.

“What did I tell you, Silas? She knows her stuff!” Slughorn said as if Valeria were not standing right there. 

“Yes, certainly. I hope to correspond more in the future, Miss Winters,” Silas said.

“It would be a privilege, sir. Thank you,” Valeria said, shaking his hand one more time as the supper was about to begin. The party dragged after that, however. Valeria had to elbow Blaise more than once as he started to nod off what with Slughorn going off about this former student or that one. Valeria could not help but feel as though she had made some progress however. She was well within Slughorn’s circle, already connected to someone in a potential field of interest. A way out began to crack through the darkness. This was viable, she only had to maintain charm and composure.

And so, she did through the tedious affair. This time last year, she likely would have found this event enjoyable, but eating at her relentlessly was her mother’s lack of response to her letter. She shook Silas’s hand once more when it was over and walked with Blaise back to the common room.

“That was exhausting. I don’t know how you do it,” Blaise said as they reached the dungeons.

“Most of it is fooling yourself into enjoying it. Why’d you come if you hate it so much?” she asked. 

“Didn’t have an excuse not to and the man _is_ well connected, so he’s useful,” Blaise said. 

“Same as me then,” she laughed a little. Blaise stopped as they approached the common room entranced.

“Look, I know it’s not my business, but is something up with Malfoy?” Blaise asked.

“Never took you for a gossip, Blaise,” she said, taken aback by the question. 

“He’s acting up again. I’m a light sleeper, he comes in at all hours of the night sometimes. He seems distracted. Thought if anyone might know, it’d be you,” he said. 

She sighed. “He doesn’t tell me much.”

“Is this about what he was rambling about on the train?” Blaise asked.

She could feel the muscles in her shoulders tightening. “It’s possible.”

Blaise looked her over for a moment, as if waiting for her to change her mind and speak. “Well, best hope it doesn’t interfere with Quidditch,” he said before saying the password and allowing her in first.

“I’m sure it won’t,” she said. They said goodnight and went to their separate rooms. Despite her exhaustion, she found herself unable to sleep. She grabbed a book Snape had recommended last year _Notes on Uncommon Potions in Western Europe_ hoping to bore herself to sleep in the common room, but to her surprise the book was rather interesting. There was a recipe that claimed to make one as irresistible as a Veela to the opposite sex, though Valeria doubted that some. A potion that promised to cure exhaustion and improve stamina seemed useful the more she read it over… 

She looked up, jolted from concentration, when she heard the common room door open. It was terribly late by then, but she was not surprised to see Draco enter the room, looking as worn as she felt. 

“You’re up late,” he said, his voice a bit tired and raspy.

“Couldn’t sleep,” she said. 

“Me either,” he said quickly, dodging a question she had not asked.

“Another late night stroll?”

“Something like that,” he said as he approached the fire. She watched the light of the flames dancing across his face, engulfing him in fire, his eyes wet and glistening with the heat. He could be beautiful sometimes, but as she watched him, she remembered.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Valeria-” he began. 

“Not about you, about my mother,” she said, closing her book and sitting up. He inhaled sharply, as if he knew this would come eventually but still dreaded the question. “You saw her over the summer, didn’t you? You must have. I wrote to her and haven’t heard back-” 

“What’s your question?”

“I want to know why,” she said. He paused, taking a moment by the fire before turning slowly to face her.

“Your mother is...unwell-” 

“Is she alright?!”

“No, she’s fine. I mean mentally...emotionally. She hasn’t been coping well,” Draco explained.

“What does that mean?”

“I don’t exactly know. Mother’s been handling it, told me not to ask too many questions. I barely saw your mum. Except once-”

 Valeria sat at the edge of the armchair. “What did she say?”

“I don’t know, a lot. She was rambling. She was terrified for you even after you were found safe,” Draco said. He shoved his hands in his pockets and she could see he did not want to reveal too much, but she did not care. This was too important. “She told me to look after you and I told her I would. 

“Is that why you’ve been watching over me since term started?” she asked. 

“Part of it,” he mumbled. “She went off on some rant, how you’re not safe anywhere. She was raving. Ever since Konstantin’s funeral-” 

“Oh, God,” she said, tears coming up again. She had forgotten completely about the funerals. She was not even there. She left Konstantin dead on cold stone and ran. Draco came over to her and put his hands on his shoulders with a firm, but assuring grip.

“Listen, it’s not your fault. Don’t blame yourself for not being there,” Draco said.

“I’m a coward,” she said softly.

“You were doing what you had to do. You said so yourself.” 

“Where are they buried?” 

“Your father in your family plot in Wales. Your brother at your castle by the lilac tree. Konstantin had some kind of will drawn up, but the bastards at the Ministry won’t let anyone see it. Just told your mother where he wanted to be buried,” he said. She began to cry quietly again and Draco awkwardly embraced her from his knelt position, whispering something that she could not hear over her grief. The lilac tree he had given her, he would be there forever. And a will so young? He must have known for some time his life was in danger.

“Is my mother safe?” Valeria asked with difficulty.

“She’s safe and alive. She’s being watched though to make sure she doesn’t do anything stupid, like run. That's likely why she hasn't replied, if I had to guess,” Draco said.

“Would that be bad?” she asked, almost wishing, for a moment, that her mother would come to Hogwarts and take her far away.

“Valeria,” Draco said severely. “You and your mother are too valuable.”

“Why!? Konstantin and my father were the Death Eaters, not us!”

“It’s complicated,” Draco said.

“Then explain!” 

“I can’t!” 

“They’re using me against her, aren’t they?”

“It’s more complex than that,” Draco said.

“Save it! Either tell me or don’t.”

“I’ll tell you everything when it’s over."

“And when will that be?”

He looked away and sighed. “Hopefully soon.”


	8. Desperate Times

Draco had fallen asleep and had woken up in a cold sweat, breathing hard, shaking. He had a dream, a nightmare, that would not leave his thoughts as he made his way at nearly a running place down to the dungeons. 

He dreamt about piles of corpses, as high as the sky, surrounded by crumbled ruins. He recognized the faces of his mother, his father, some of his friends and countless others he did not know. He ran. He ran as hard as he could, but the corpses blocked every exit, and the piles seemed to be getting larger. The smell of death and pain permeated the air and fell over him like a veil. A voice called out to him, a malicious whisper followed him no matter how fast he went.

There was one person, a woman, looking away from him in the center of a cobblestone courtyard. She was all in white, her long dark brown hair swaying gently in the wind. He ran to her. He would know that hair anywhere. He called out for her, cried out her name weakly, choking on the stench on the wind. He touched her, turned her to face him.

He recoiled. Her eyes were glazed over and her skin was gray. Stone cold. She disintegrated into ashes in his hands before he could scream and the voice grew louder, ringing out in laughter.

 

Meanwhile, Valeria’s copy of Silas’s book arrived with a kind note written inside the cover. Valeria had taken to reading it late at night in the common room when she couldn’t sleep, curling up in one of the plush armchairs until she nodded off. The book was a fascinating read, as promised. Valeria was beginning to understand the incredible allure of poisons. So much silent power, lying in wait, and by the time it was noticed, it was too late. To have that kind of control in her grasp was almost seductive and she had to catch herself fantasizing about what she would do with that kind of power. She fell asleep in the armchair, thoughts of poison in her mind, but awoke discombobulated to the sound of the common room door opening and closing back in place. A curious pacing followed, remarkable how sensitive the ears were during sleep and just after waking, along with fast and shallow breaths. Squinting in the direction of the noise she saw Draco his clothes disheveled, his hair a mess and his body tense.

“Draco?” She said softly, with a sleepy rasp as she sat up, sore from sleeping so long in an odd position. He stopped suddenly and looked at her with frenzied eyes. “Are you just getting in?”

He looked at her for a moment and nodded, looking away distracted, but he did not move from his spot. She closed the book that had remained open on her lap and stood. She eyed him curiously, his surprise had not subsided. It was as if he was stuck to the spot. She slowly walked over to him, he looked more exhausted than she was and paler than the moon. His uniform was wet with sweat stains under his arms and his eyes had red lines all throughout them. He had been rather sullen and lethargic as of late, but this was something else. This was panic. “Are you okay?” 

He looked up at her, terrified, as if she was about to murder him. His chest rose and fell with increasing speed and his mouth contorted as he tried to regain composure. In arm’s reach now, she moved to touch his arm, trying to gain eye contact, but he flinched at the first faint touch of her hand, recoiling back like a frightened animal.

“Don’t touch me!” he hissed and she took a step back.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” she said. She was the one who was fearful now. Draco was mean, spiteful, but this was beyond that and so unlike him. He turned back to her with a dark look and an expression as if he had smelled something foul. 

“Were you waiting up for me?” he asked. 

“What? No. I fell asleep while reading,” she said.

“Alone, in the common room and not in bed?”

“I’ve done it a few times before when I couldn’t sleep, Draco. It happens. Or don’t you remember?”

“Are you spying on me?”

“I didn’t even know you were out of bed! I’m sorry I startled you. I won’t say anything of it next time,” she said, annoyed. He appeared to calm down some, the hateful look subsided, but he was still jumpy. He ran his hand through his hair, tugging at it.

“No. You didn’t. I-I just. I can’t-” his breath was shallower with each attempt at speech and his hands trembled slightly. He gulped for air, as if choking, trying to mutter something with each breath. Confused and scared she put the book down on the nearest table and came close to him, one hand on either of his upper arms.

“Hey, look at me. Please,” she said calmly and finally their eyes met. He looked terrified as he desperately tried to hold back his emotions with increasing failure. “Breathe with me. In and out, like so.” She directed him with her own breath and he was at least able to get one full deep breath, but the wild look in his eyes remained.

“We need to get you out of here,” he said. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her towards the entrance to the girls’ dorms.

“What are you talking about?” she said.

“Go and pack a bag, only the essentials. We’ll sort the rest out later. You’re leaving tonight.”

“How can I leave?”

“We’ll figure it out. I’ll buy you some time if I have to. Grab a broom. You have Konstantin’s, right? No, you’ll use mine, it’s faster anyway,” he rambled, his grip on her wrist tightening.

“And where would I go?”

“As far away as possible. The Americas or Japan or wherever. Anywhere. Mother will never leave without me, but I can at least keep you safe. If I can’t get it done, at least you’ll be too far away for-”

“Are you mad? You think I wouldn’t be found somehow? The Trace is still on me and how would I access my Gringotts account? How would I live?”

“We’ll figure that out! Just get ready.”

“You told me on the train not to disappear again,” she said.

“That was back when I thought I could—it doesn’t matter. I was wrong, happy? Get your things and let’s go,” he demanded.

“I’m not going anywhere. This is the safest place for both of us right now. We couldn’t get out of here unnoticed if we tried. Just breathe. Please,” she said. He held eye contact with increasing intensity until he reached for arms, gripping them tightly and crashed his lips onto hers.

She tensed in the unexpectedness of the moment but gave into the kiss after a second. It had been so unclear as to what they were, whether or not they were still together or if they just gravitated towards each other out of a need to survive. She had been craving this, she realized. She wanted to be with him, she wanted to connect with someone, and she wanted his comfort. But she soon realized that this was different from what they had before. This was not the loving passion of two lonely people nor the nervous tenderness of young romance. This was a possessive and furious passion. Almost animalistic, completely selfish. But he did not relent. His hands were soon moving all over her body, grasping and groping at whatever it could.

She broke away from his mouth. “Draco-” she began, but he kissed her again and shut her up. She wriggled out of his grasp, breathing heavily. She looked at him, and the frenzied animal in him was gone, now he looked at her with fear.

“Valeria, I’m-I. I don’t—I didn’t mean to-” he stuttered. She couldn’t find the words, she was a bit frightened and more confused than ever.

“We should go to bed,” she said, turning to go.

“Wait!” he called, going after her and she turned on him.

“What is this? What are we?” she asked before he could get another word out, taking him aback by the question.

“I don’t know,” he said quietly.

“If we’re not-If I can’t rely on you, then that cannot happen again,” she said with command.

“I know,” he nodded.

“Is it just because of our situations or do we actually want to be…” she trailed off.

He sighed. “I don’t know. Does it matter?”

“I don’t know,” she replied in the same tone. They stood like that for a moment, both lost and alone, but unable to move away from one another. They were stuck together and it felt that everything around them threatened to tear them apart. Surprisingly enough, it was Draco who broke the torturous silence.

“What I did just now…If anyone else had—” he stopped himself. “But, can I hug you again?” he asked, audibly uncomfortable voicing the request aloud. She nodded just a little and went to him and they held each other in blissful silence. The feeling crept again as the tips her fingers dug a little into his back, the sensation of clinging to this moment, of never wanting to leave it. Never wanting to leave him.

She and Draco didn’t talk much about what happened that night, in fact she was seeing less and less of him. She tried to do her best to keep up with her homework over the next week, but became increasingly distracted, fascinated by Silas’s book. The only class she was sure to keep on top of was Potions, just to stay in Slughorn’s sunbeam of favor. Draco pulled her aside before what she assumed would be another dull Potions lessons. 

“I need your help,” he said. She hadn’t gotten a good look at him in a few days. He looked thinner, sickly almost, but energetic urgency flared in his eyes. 

“What now?”

“There’s a book in the restricted section that I need. You have an in with Slughorn and I thought if you could—”

“How many times am I going to have to stick my neck out for you?” she asked, becoming increasingly agitated by his demands.

“Don’t be childish!” he said, whispering resentfully. “It’s just a damn book, what would Slughorn care what you use it for?”

“I care! I’m trying to keep my head down,” she said.

“You _are_. You’re not the one who needs it, you just need to check it out for me. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t have to, believe me,” he said. She took a moment to study his face. He almost looked shaken, like he was about to go mad. She couldn’t say no to him when he looked so pitiful and she fell into one of his traps again. 

“What’s the book?”

“ _A Guide to Unusual and Potentially Dangerous Magical Repairs_ by Bellamy. I don’t remember the first name,” Draco said, looking relieved.

“I’ll do it after class,” she said just as the lesson was about to begin. She happened to catch Potter’s eye, looking at them with a disgusted suspicion. The last thing she needed was Potter and his friends on her case too. She approached Slughorn at the end of the lesson as the students filed out of the room, making sure to begin with cheerful small talk about Silas’s book before making her request. 

“I was wondering, Professor, if I might ask a favor,” she said.

“But of course! Anything you like,” he replied eagerly.

“There’s a book in the restricted section, I need a note from a teacher to check it out. I was wondering if you could help me,” she said. He raised his eyebrows with curiosity, but was not shocked by the request, which relieved Valeria.

“And which book?”

“ _A Guide to Unusual and Potentially Dangerous Magical Repairs_ ,”

“Is this for schoolwork, Miss Winters?” he asked. She had worked up a lie in class, Draco had been useless on that front, which was aggravating. He seemed to expect her to do all this scheming while barely offering even a suggestion as to how to achieve such ends. She looked down, feigning some sort of shameful sadness that was not unfamiliar.

“Admittedly, no, sir. It’s my brother’s broom, you see. He loved that thing and it’s the only thing of his I have left. Something is wrong with it, I’m afraid, and I’m not too keen on sending it away for repair until I’ve tried everything myself. I know that it’s a difficult issue, sir, but I loved my brother dearly. I’m hesitant to ask another teacher as most seem to have certain suspicions about Slytherin and my family, given everything, which I’m sure you can sympathize with,” Valeria explained.

Slughorn considered. It was not the most well-crafted lie, downright silly if one thought on it long enough, but it was the best she could come up with in the moment while trying also to do well in the lesson itself. To her immense relief, he nodded.

“Yes, I understand how difficult things have been for you and how complicated families can be. I’ll write you a note,” he said, gathering his writing materials. She thanked him profusely, playing the part of the overly bereaved sister. She made her way dutifully to library and collected the book, stowing it in her bag quickly so as to avoid even the chance that someone would see her with it as she made her way to the common room. It was not hard to find Draco who sat in a lonely corner, bouncing his leg up and down nervously.

“Thank you,” he said as she pulled the book inconspicuously from her bag.

“I have a condition,” she said, not releasing her grip. He rolled his eyes. 

“Of course you do,”

“I want access to the Room of Requirement too,” she said. His face paled at her words.

“How did you know—?”

“I was on the Inquisitorial Squad too. Where else would you be at all hours?” she said as if she had known it forever when the truth was she only figured it out that day when Draco was missing from the rest of their classes. She had spent enough time in that room to know that the other teachers wouldn’t think to find him there and the rest of their Slytherin peers had no clue where he disappeared to. It was a whim, but by his reaction, it was a correct one.

“Absolutely not,” he spat, trying to force the book from her hand.

“You don’t own it!” 

“You don’t understand. You cannot be in there!”

“Why not? 

“Because I said so! What could you possibly want to do in there?”

“I just want to brew potions. I won’t bother you with whatever it is you’re doing,” she said, lying again. She wanted to be in there for her purposes, to have some peace and to have a place to retreat to. She did want to brew potions in there, specifically the ones Silas wrote about; specifically poison and there was no other place in the castle to do so without a teacher or nosy ghost noticing. The lie was that she did want to keep an eye on Draco, even just slightly, though her instincts told her to mind her own business. She couldn’t bring herself to let it alone, not when it came to him. He looked at her with an anger that more closely resembled fear as he decided, nearly trembling with his hand gripped tightly on the book in her hand.

“Fine,” he spat. “You will not ask questions. You will keep to yourself and you will not be seen.”

“Agreed,” she said with a spiteful smile, relinquishing the book over to him. He stormed off without another word.

Draco didn’t speak to her much in the coming days and she hadn’t yet tried to access the Room of Requirement. She would have to gather ingredients and supplies first, which was easier said than done with poisons. Valeria was careful to monitor him though, becoming nearly obsessed with his every move. She observed how he ate, which wasn’t much and was the first to notice his absences from class. He was slacking on his homework, which worried her most. Whatever he was doing had to go unnoticed by teachers and not doing his homework was the easiest way for him to get caught. 

“Are you going to the Hogsmeade?” she asked bravely at dinner as the weekend approached. He jumped a little, shaken from his deep thoughts. 

“No. Detention with McGonagall,” he said flatly.

“Is it about your homework?” she asked. He only nodded. She rolled her eyes.

“You have to keep on top of it. Do you want to raise suspicions about whatever it is you’re doing?” Valeria asked, whispering practically in his ear.

“Don’t you think I know that?” he said with spite, dropping his fork onto his plate. “It’s easy for you to say.” He looked pathetic and seeing the blue bags under his eyes quelled the urge to scold him further. She only had a few pieces of this puzzle; His task was important, of dire consequence. It was so secret that even she could not know the details. It struck a fear in him the likes of which she had never seen—Whatever it was, it was life or death. “I just…I just can’t keep up.”

Valeria thought for a moment. Whatever this task was, it was in her interest to aid him, or so he claimed, and with how serious he seemed, she had no reason to distrust that. What was in his best interest was also in hers. At least, that was her rationale. The deeper truth was that she cared viscerally about him and to see him disintegrate as he was made her feel helpless and hopeless. It was slowly eating at her and breaking her fragile heart.

“Let me help,” Valeria said.

“What?”

“Let me help you keep on top of your homework. You’ll have more time and energy for—other things,” she said. Draco looked at her suspiciously, but relented with a nod. 

“We’ll discuss it. Just don’t touch my Charms homework,” he said with a weak smile. A sense of humor, there was hope. 

But the hope faded as night fell and she couldn’t sleep again. Valeria tossed and turned, as was becoming her new normal, but her thoughts lingered on Draco. She found herself more disappointed that he wasn’t going to Hogsmeade than she had expected. Perhaps she had been hoping for a return to some sense of innocence, for some freedom away from the castle which was beginning to resemble a prison. She just wanted to be with him, like how it was. She even missed the juvenile stunts he pulled. She missed being angry at him for them. She missed their banter and above all she missed him. When she could no longer bear it, she retreated down to the common room to read until her eyes could not bear to remain open. 

She was shaken hard, waking suddenly to Draco standing above her. 

“Thanks for waking me up,” she said groggily. 

“I need you to do something,” he said. She opened her mouth, about to give him a verbal lashing, but he held up his hand to stop her. “You need to listen to me very carefully. Whatever you do, do not go into the Three Broomsticks when you go to Hogsmeade. Do you understand?” 

“What? Why?”

“It doesn’t matter why. Just don’t do it under any circumstances. Promise me.”

“Draco, I’ve about had enough—”

“ _Promise._ ”

“Alright, fine. Can I go to bed now?” she asked, he nodded and she left him there without another word.

Hogsmeade was not what she had wanted, but she didn’t really know what she had been expecting. She wandered with Daphne and her other friends, following them around where they wanted to go. In general, the students looked a bit dour, the dark cloud of war looming over them all was just too visible. She did manage to procure some more uncommon potion ingredients for her own pleasure, which she enjoyed, but once that was done she was ready to leave. She made her way back to the school alone, her friends wanting to linger a little longer, but she soon wished she hadn’t left early. 

One of the Gryffindor girls, one of the Quidditch players, was levitating in the air screaming an unholy, inhuman, sound. Valeria froze in her place, paralyzed to the spot watching the horrific scene, and crying out as the girl crashed to the ground. Valeria watched on, noticing a necklace that she vaguely recognized spilled on the ground. Potter and his friends were all yelling, tending to the girl, but for a moment Valeria locked eyes with Potter. 

And she knew that he knew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is soooo overdue. No, I have not abandoned this, I promise. My summer grew rather busy unexpectedly and for that I apologize. Thank you for reading and sticking with me!


	9. Walls Closing In

Valeria went with Potter at his friends at Hermione’s assistance. She had made a decent argument about having as many witnesses as possible to talk to McGonagall and certainly scuttling off into the castle alone would have only increased suspicions, which Valeria could feel radiating from Potter. Valeria kept her head down and made sure to stay a few paces behind them. She remembered Draco’s warning and her stomach sunk. She just wanted to have a day outside of the castle in peace, but even the simplest wish was an impossible fantasy these days. She ignored what the trio was saying until McGonagall came down the stairs.

The necklace was confiscated and Leanne told the story. _The Three Broomsticks_ ; Katie Bell had come upon the necklace there, the very place Draco had warned Valeria to avoid. Valeria knew he had something to do with it, there was no use in being naïve anymore, but she couldn’t let _them_ know. She had to protect him, by any means necessary. After Leanne was dismissed Potter argued with the others and with McGonagall, accusing Draco the first chance he got, while Valeria kept silent only nodding to confirm the details she personally witnessed.

“Miss Winters, you are close with Mr. Malfoy. Have you any evidence he was involved?” McGonagall asked.

“Not at all, Professor,” Valeria said, knowing that the more she tried to over-explain the more suspicion would shine on Draco.

“She’s lying!” Potter protested.

“I am not!”

“Why would she lie, Potter?” McGonagall asked.

“Because she’s _seeing_ him!”

“My dating life is none of your concern and has nothing to do with—” Valeria began.

“I’m inclined to agree. Now unless you have hard proof of Mr. Malfoy’s involvement, I cannot act,” McGonagall continued. Draco’s detention saved him this time, but Valeria knew he was to blame, at least in part. How much he was involved was another question. As they were dismissed, Valeria wondered at how he had managed smuggling a dark artifact into Hogsmeade and got someone to attempt to bring it into the castle while in detention.

“Valeria!” Potter called behind her as she made her way down the hall towards the dungeons. He was rushing up to her, ire in his eyes, with his two lackeys following behind them.

“I have nothing more to say to you, Potter,” Valeria said.

“You know something,” he stated.

“About what?”

“Malfoy is at the bottom of this and you know it!”

“I haven’t the slightest idea what you mean,” she replied. Potter looked about to rip his hair out. 

“Why are you protecting him?! Didn’t you see what happened to Katie? He could get someone killed!” he nearly yelled. That fact did trouble Valeria. This was beyond stealing Polyjuice ingredients and getting him books from the library. This mission of his was supposedly life or death and he was resorting to desperate, dangerous measures to accomplish it. That was truthfully all she knew, but she would never let Potter know. 

“We protect our own, Potter,” she spat unwisely, before turning on her heel and walking away. Hermione called out after her, but Valeria refused to turn. In the dungeons, her friends had yet to return, but surely they’d be on their way soon. She found Draco sitting with Crabbe and Goyle having what looked to be a severe conversation, eyes darting around the room at the others, as if looking out for eavesdroppers. She marched over to him and grabbed his arm, ready to yank him away and scold him, but those sad exhausted eyes melted her resolve.

“We need to talk,” she said darkly. He didn’t seem to have the energy to argue as they exited the common room and found an empty, unused classroom elsewhere in the dank dungeon.

“Someone is hurt,” she said. The remaining color drained from his face as he took her implied meaning.

“What happened?” he asked.

“Katie Bell, a Gryffindor girl, she touched that necklace and is in the hospital wing. Potter and his friends all saw it. As did I. Draco, what the hell were you thinking?” she asked. He ran his fingers through his hair and cursed under his breath, looking at the floor helplessly. “Someone could have been killed!”

“I know!” he spat back.

“Then what were you trying to do?!”

“Will she be alright?”

“I didn’t ask. I was too busy covering for you again,” Valeria said, crossing her arms.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry—”

“Let me guess; You still can’t tell me,” she said.

“You don’t understand. It’s not working. I had to do something or—”

“I don’t want to hear it unless you’re going to tell me what’s happening! Do you realize how lucky you are that you had detention? Potter’s more suspicious than ever.”

“I don’t give a damn about Potter!” Draco shouted.

“You should! You know he’ll stop at nothing to prove you had something to do with this and he isn’t wrong this time!” 

“I’ll fix this,” he said, heading towards the door. She grabbed his arm as he walked by her. 

“Draco, I am begging you. Just give me something, anything to help you—” she said, but he grabbed her back, a hand on either of her upper arms.

“You cannot be involved, not any more than you already are. I won’t allow it,” he said and she attempted to protest, but he spoke again. “I’ve already asked too much of you. I’m sorry about today, but I will handle it. You have to trust me. You don’t have a choice,” he said.

As she looked him fiercely in the eye, gripping his arms she wondered how he did it. How he could flatten her resolve with just a look of his cool, gray eyes and a touch of his hands. Her weakness before him brought her to shame. She knew better than to roll over, _“The Winters don’t surrender,”_ her father said, but Draco had something else. Familiarity, a comfort, a sliver of security that she ached for. With no one left in this world to invest an iota of trust into, she conceded. He was the best she had, whether she chose him or not.

He released his grip with a gentle squeeze of his arm and left her behind, promising to “take care” of things under his breath as he made his exit. She remained in the dark classroom, relishing the solitude she had long since grown accustomed to. She contemplated going to Snape. Of all the teachers, all the adults, he would know what to do. She wanted to, desperately, like a frightened child, but Draco’s warnings played back in her mind. If anyone knew, according to him, horrible things would happen. Finding no other options in her lonely search, she made her way back to the common room. Draco was nowhere in sight.

She didn’t see much of Draco the next few days, but they fell into a bit of a routine. She would fall asleep in the common room, too restless for normal sleep, and he would wake her up when he returned from his secret work. They would then briefly chat about nothing in particular and see themselves off to bed. It was mundane, but they both found comfort in it somehow. On top of keeping up with her own homework, she had to do Draco’s when he was absent, which he was at least kind enough to warn her of ahead of time on most occasions. She was spending more and more time alone, too emotionally exhausted to socialize as she once did. Without the leisure of relaxation that her friends had, she spent hours in the library when the common room grew too rowdy.

On a Sunday afternoon, a time when the library was not popular, Valeria found a secluded corner and pulled books from shelves at random to pile around her. The subjects didn’t matter, she just needed to look busy and block her work from passing eyes. Perhaps she was being a bit paranoid, but she could not be too careful these days. Considering Draco’s plummeting popularity, not even the other Slytherins could know she was doing his work, with how gossipy they could be. This assignment was easy, only one foot of parchment, but the time-consuming tedium of the task wasn’t the material, rather making the copy look like and read like Draco’s work. Otherwise, the enterprise was entirely pointless. 

Fortunately, Draco had excellent penmanship, unlike her own scrawl, for which her mother used to scold her nearly every other letter exchange. It was easy to write in his hand when she slowed down. She adjusted her own assignment, moved words around, used different ones, reorganized sentences, even made a couple of mistakes and improvements off of hers, just to throw off the scent of suspicion. She was nervous when she had finished, not knowing how many hours had passed, but it wasn’t as though she could ask anyone for a second opinion. She waited for the ink to dry when she heard her name called. She turned to see Hermione, one of the people she was trying the most to avoid, smiling nervously at her.

“Hello, Granger,” Valeria greeted, shuffling around the things on the desk to cover it up. Despite Valeria’s coldness, Hermione approached the table and eyed up the books.

“Interesting selection,” Hermione said with a weak laugh. “What class is this for?”

“Those? Just for fun.” Valeria said quickly, standing to put herself between Hermione and the table.

“But aren’t you working on homework?” Hermione asked, nodding towards the parchment. Valeria was losing her patience and her charm.

“It really isn’t your business what I read—”

“Why is Malfoy’s name on that parchment?”

“He asked me to proofread it for him,” Valeria said.

Hermione’s mood soured and she raised a suspicious eyebrow, but Valeria would not relent. She had been made bolder through this whole ordeal and had no ounce of patiene for petty school nonsense or the rigidity of rules. Nor was Valeria stupid enough to think Hermione bought the excuse completely, as she had seen enough; in Knockturn Alley, Draco missing class after class, looking unwell, and doing poorly in nearly all areas of his life.

“Valeria, if you’re helping him cheat, I’m going to have to report both of you,” Hermione said, sounding more like a disappointed parent than a peer.

“Even after I covered for you how many times with the DA?” Valeria asked with a tight jaw, tired of being treated like a disobedient child. 

“That was different—” 

“Because it was you?”

“Because we weren’t trying to get better grades. We were all fighting against Umbridge, including you,” Hermione said. Valeria would never admit that Hermione had a point and instead stepped toward her. Valeria was tired of Potter’s glares, tired of them trying to interfere with anything they could get their saintly little hands, tired of them sabotaging her world that they could not possibly understand.

“If you so much as raise a suspicion, it will not end well.”

Hermione for the first time looked a bit frightened of her. “What’s gotten into you?”

“You don’t understand and I will not allow you to get in the way. Not this time. Not after your idiotic plot got my family killed. I suggest you forget what you saw and go on your way.”

Hermione looked at her confused and conflicted, but eventually gave up with a sigh. “I’ll let it go. Just this once. Consider us even,” she said before turning and walking off, no doubt on her way to report their conversation to Potter. Valeria quickly gathered the her things and made her way swiftly back to the common room, but was stopped on the stairs down to the dungeons by a third or fourth year, Valeria didn’t know or care, handing her a stately looking envelope with Slughorn’s seal on the back.

 

_Dear Miss Winters,_

_You are formally invited to attend a Christmas party, hosted by yours truly, on the 20 thof December. For this event, I encourage you to bring one guest of your choosing. Please note that this is a formal event and as such, dress robes are the expected code of dress. Please confirm your attendance in reply to this letter or in person at your earliest convenience. I look forward to your response._

_Sincerely,_

_Professor Horace Slughorn_

Sunday evening was surprisingly quiet in the common room. She assumed most of her peers were out cherishing the last few hours of the weekend or frantically finishing neglected schoolwork. Even more surprising was seeing Draco, poring over the book she had managed to retrieve for him with unyielding concentration. She approached him and fetched his homework out of her bag.

“Look this over and tell me if it’s good enough,” she demanded. He shrugged and ignored the parchment. 

“I’m sure it’s fine. What’s that?” he said, gesturing to Slughorn’s invitation.

“An invitation to Slughorn’s formal Christmas party,” she said. 

He rolled his eyes. “My condolences.”

“I’m allowed a guest,” she said, somewhat hopefully.

“Is that so? Who’s the unfortunate soul?” Draco asked. " _God he’s getting thin_ ," she thought to herself as she looked at him. The snark was in his words, but his drawling sarcasm had disappeared. He sounded as though he aged a decade and none of his words had the energy behind them that they once did. She almost missed his spite, at least she preferred it to whatever he was now.

“I was going to ask you, but since you don’t seem interested-” she said.

“I don’t have time for ridiculous little parties with teachers who won’t give me the time of day-”

“And what makes you think I do?”

“You’re the one who’s obligated, not me.”

“I just thought…”

Draco looked startled, as if he had only just then noticed her. “Thought what?”

“That you’d go with me and we could have a night without homework or schemes. That we could just be normal for an hour or two,” she said. Draco let out a small scoff that took more effort than it should have.

“How sad is that? You of all people want to go a party you’d hate just to feel normal for a bit,” he replied. The lowness of his voice and the melancholy in his tone prevented her from misinterpreting the comment as an insult. In fact, she smiled a little in agreement. She used the moment to sit beside him, closer than usual.

“It’s pathetic,” she admitted with a little laugh similar to Draco’s. “Even more pathetic that I miss it. I miss the parties, the people, the dressing up. My parents used to drag me to those things all the time and now I’m hardly worth anyone’s time of day.” 

“That’s not true,” he said, almost whispering, placing his cold hand on hers. 

“You don’t have to coddle me. It’s not just that. I wanted us to be normal again.” 

“You mean constantly bickering?”

“It wasn’t all bickering.”

“Could have fooled me. Remember the Easter party at the Greengrass’s that one year? You nearly murdered me for getting the fruit tart on your robes,” he said.

“Which you did on purpose to spite me for telling your mother that you and Nott were trying to sneak out,” she said.

“See? Constant bickering. We can bicker some more if you like, if that feels normal to you,” he joked. She gave him a weak shove on the shoulder. The fun was fleeting, remembering that Easter party; her mother, her father and brother, all their lies.

“Maybe it wasn’t normal. I don’t know what was or is normal anymore,” she said. He squeezed her hand.

“It was normal. It will be normal, if not better, again like I told you. Do you believe me?”

“I don’t even know what you’re talk-”

“I need you to believe me,” he said, the harshness of his tone conveying his seriousness.

“I wouldn’t be doing all this for you if I didn’t,” she said, whether or not she believed in the weight of her words.

“Then I guess I owe you. I’ll go, but I’ll be arriving later,” he said. It wasn’t what she wanted, not even close, but she had little choice but to take it so she nodded. “Good,” he responded, slowly intertwining his hand in hers, as if he was frightened to do so; as if they had not held hand hundreds of times before.

“Are you going home for Christmas?” she asked, the question had been on her mind as of late.

“Mother is begging me too, but I don’t think I can. You make any arrangements?”

“I haven’t heard a single word from my mother, so I doubt it.”

“Could always go back to the Weasley house. I’m sure everyone would just love that.”

“I will throw myself from the Astronomy Tower if anyone dares to suggest it,” she laughed.

“Sounds like no one else is staying behind either, from what I’ve gathered. Don’t blame them. Who’d want to stay here, given the choice?”

She agreed. “Guess it might be just us then, at least for our house. Might be nice actually, having a chance to breathe.”

He was not persuaded. “Maybe. It’s just us now.” 

She looked around. The few others in the common room seemed to have dispersed while they were too immersed with each other. It was peaceful. Being alone in the common room wasn’t new to her, even Draco’s presence was not unusual, but those were the nights she fell asleep out there. Those were the nights he’d gently shake her to wake and have a brief chat about nothing before disappearing to their respective beds. They were awake now, exhausted but present, now and they were in their own world. The world she had come to seek refuge in and where no one would dare try to hurt them.

“It’s nice,” she said softly. He nodded his head just once and draped his free arm around her. The feeling of his fingers lightly grasping on the bone of her shoulder made her body drop some of the figurative weight it had been carrying. She could not help but sink into him more, resting her head against him. In turn, he pulled her closer and gently melted into her too. It was all so easy when they were alone.  

It was easy to find him handsome despite the toll the year had, so far, taken on him. So very easy to welcome a gentle kiss and even easier to reciprocate. They should have been resting, thinking, planning, but they both needed this.  

 

“Aren’t you coming?” Tracey asked Valeria as she was leaving the dormitory with Daphne. 

“I’m not up for Quidditch today,” Valeria said, looking up from the book she was pretending to read.

“Are you sick? Draco’s down with something too. Maybe you caught what he has,” Tracey suggested.

“Wonder how that happened…” Daphne said with an impressive eye-roll. Valeria already knew that Draco wasn’t going to be playing, having told her ahead of time a couple days before and she had also decided it was a good opportunity to make use of the Room of Requirement as she and Draco agreed.

“He’s not playing?” Valeria asked.

“No, and Blaise is fuming. Harper’s going in for Draco. You didn’t hear it from him?” Tracey asked. 

Valeria shrugged. “He didn’t mention it to me, no.” That was, of course, a lie and one that came unsettlingly naturally. Since spending much of that one evening snogging on the couch, they had returned to their default interactions. They were back to their brief late night chats and schemes, if they could be called that. Neither of them seemed to have the courage to mention it or knew how to make sense of it if it was mentioned. 

“What’s going on with you two anyway? One second you’re off whispering in corners and the next neither of you know anything about the other,” Daphne said.

“At least we aren’t arguing all the time,” Valeria said, which was a half-truth.

“I think I preferred that,” Daphne said.

“You can ask him yourself if you want, but if you don’t want to miss the game, you better get going,” Valeria said as kindly as she could. Once she was sure they were far enough away, she set down her book and made her way across the castle to the Room of Requirement with her brewing supplies in her bag. Three-quarters of the way there, she remembered that Draco hadn’t told her how exactly she should access it this time, but fortunately she managed to catch up with him at the sixth floor.

“I’ll be over there. I’ll come find you when it’s time to go, so don’t try to find me,” Draco instructed when they entered the room, so unlike the DA’s setup. Mountains and piles of stuff from decades upon decades of use. She desperately wanted to take time to explore; the old journals scattered about, the weird objects, the discards of students passed. But there was no time as Draco had been getting antsy about his Polyjuice supply so she set up her station in a dim little section of the room and set to work.

She was careful and meticulous, following the book to the letter. Thankfully, Slughorn hadn’t noticed the batch of supplies gone missing, just a little grab here and there while she took inventory. She had finished sooner than expected and pulled Silas’s book from her bag, having been ruminating on a poison she discovered within that provided an opportunity to work with ingredients she hadn’t used and employ techniques she had yet to learn. Her own collapsible cauldron was used for the Polyjuice, but a bit of exploring paid off, having found a clean one discarded long ago.

“Valeria!” she heard Draco’s voice from afar. She called back to him as she wrapped up the first steps of producing the poison and he followed her voice to her makeshift workspace.

“What’s in that one?” he asked, gesturing to the second cauldron.

“Poison, a deadly and powerful one. Even more dangerous if I got it wrong, so don’t touch it,” she said. She could have sworn she saw a thought glance across his eyes, but he nodded.

“You ought to get going. People will be coming back soon,” he said.

“Aren’t you coming with? Suspicious of you not to be in bed if you’re supposed to be ill,” she said.

“I’ll be on in a bit. I’ll catch up with you later,” he said. Not wanting to argue, she gathered her things and began to set out, but he stood in front of her to stop her and motioned his head towards the Polyjuice. “Thank you, for doing that.”

“I’ll call in the favor in due time, don’t worry,” she said.

He smirked. “I’d expect nothing less.” Unthinking and without another word, he bent down and kissed her again, which she gave into. She resigned herself to falling into her feelings with him, despite her better judgement. She had started to relish these little escapes, and no longer had the energy to feel uneasy about them. She set off without hardly another word back to the dungeons as students were filing their way back into the castle. Gryffindor appeared to have won, which was going to put the rest of her own house in a sour mood and truth be told, she was also disappointed.

“Winters! Over here!” Blaise called out, having entered the common room just moments after her.

“I’m sorry about the match, Blaise,” she said sincerely.

“Never mind that. What is going on with Malfoy?”

“What do you mean?”

“You and I both know what I mean. He’s been acting weird all year and now he’s sick on the same day you happen to be sick? Just days after being all over each other? Don’t look so surprised, Bulstrode saw you,”

“If he says he’s ill, I’m assuming he’s ill. I don’t know anything more,” Valeria said, cursing nosy Bulstrode in her head.

“Is it because of you?” Blaise asked.

“Excuse me?”

“You both have been being secretive together. If you’re distracting him from Quid-”

“Draco is his own person and can mind his own business! I think you should do the same!”

“Knock it off, both of you!” Daphne said, intervening. “Draco can do what he wants, Blaise. Leave her alone.”

“Perhaps Winters should tell her boyfriend that he has other responsibilities,” Blaise said.

“He’s not my boyfriend! Tell him your damn self!”

“Valeria, stop! Come on,” Daphne ordered, dragging Valeria away from Blaise and the rest of the Quidditch team.

“Now I remember why I’m not better friends with him,” Valeria said once she and Daphne had made it to the dorm. 

“Is he wrong though?”

“Not you too. I told you-” Valeria said, exacerbated.

“I know what you told me, but can you blame him? Can you blame me? You and Draco have been so different.”

“I wonder why that is! His father’s in Azkaban and my family is destroyed. I’m sorry we’re not perfectly happy for Quidditch and acting like everything’s fine. I’m sorry that is so inconvenient for you all!”

“That’s not what I meant. 

“Isn’t it though? We’ve just been talking privately is all. Really, that’s all it is or can be right now. I’d really appreciate it, as my friend, that you keep your nose out of this,” Valeria said. Daphne was stalwart and unconvinced.

“I’m bringing it up because I am your friend. But if that’s how it’s going to be, then fine. Let me know when you’re ready,” Daphne said, swiftly leaving the dorm. Valeria sighed and plopped herself onto the bed. She didn’t know how to answer Daphne’s questions even if it wouldn’t put anyone in jeopardy to do so. She was just as confused as the rest of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so beyond late and have no excuse. Thanks for sticking around!


	10. Caught

_"You should have told me," he said_ _through clenched teeth._

_"Could you have borne my secrets as well as yours?" she asked._

_*****_

 

Katie Bell was floating. Her father bled onto the snow, his torso crushed. Her brother was falling while looking up at the sky, seeing nothing, his jaw slacked open. Katie screamed. She screamed. And screamed. She would not stop.

Valeria awoke in her bed, panting, shaking. She was sure she was going to vomit, but somehow managed to control herself. The dreams were getting worse and she could no longer remember the last time she slept through the night. Daphne and Tracey had been pressing her for answers, but had recently given up. They were giving her what she had wanted, the isolation she craved, but she was finding it was the last thing she needed. They were kind enough to keep her around even as she struggled to keep her head up in Defense Against the Dark Arts which felt like a boulder sitting on her shoulders.

“...Miss Winters!”

Valeria jolted her slumped body into an upright position, dry eyes finding Professor snape standing in front of her table with a fixed scowl. The class was quiet, and her head aches from exhaustion.  

“Can you answer the question?” Snape continued. 

“I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t catch the question,” Valeria mumbled. 

“What are the disadvantages of using the Blasting Curse?”

“Uh, it destroys by fire and can therefore cause collateral damage and give away the caster’s position,” she said. 

“Good. Do try to remain awake for the rest of class and see me after,” Snape said, though he was obviously dissatisfied with her answer.  

“Do you need to go to the hospital wing? You don’t look alright,” Daphne, who sat beside her when Draco was absent, whispered. Valeria shook her head, using the last fumes of energy she had to sit up, though she could hardly make sense of the rest of Snape’s lesson.

“I’m sorry for falling asleep, sir. I haven’t been sleeping well,” Valeria said politely approaching Snape’s desk after class. 

“I know this has been a difficult year for you. Has there anything specific plaguing you recently?” He asked in his unamused, unconvinced tone. Valeria’s throat clenched up, terrified of the truth threatening to escape her lips. 

“No, sir,” she said softly. 

“Given your history of high academic performance, your lack of composure is concerning,” he said.  

“I know sir. It won’t happen again.” 

“Your mid-class nap isn’t all I’m referring to,” he said pulling a parchment from the stacks of homework collected at the start of class. She looked down at it as he slid it in front of her and realized it was the essay she had written for Draco.

“I only turned it in for him,” she said.  

“Mr. Malfoy has never used words such as ‘ _naturally_ ’ or ‘ _heretofore_ ’ in his work, but this essay contains at least three instances of one of those words,” Snape said.

“He asked for my advice and I merely gave him suggestions.”

“Such lies may work on other teachers, but not me. You’re getting sloppy, Miss Winters.”

“He’s been ill. I just helped a little so he doesn’t fall behind.”

“And are you teaching him the material he’s missing? Because if not you’re not doing him any favors. Why are you doing his homework for him?”

Valeria was on the verge of breaking. It may have been the exhaustion, the pressure, or the intensity of the feelings she had been so desperately squashing for the majority of the school year, but she was cracking.

“He’s…he’s having a hard time coping, sir. I’m just trying to keep him out of detention,” she said.

“Why not let him have his deserved detentions as time to make up his work instead of risking your own academic record?” he asked, still unconvinced.

“He has other things to do,” she whispered.

“Such as?” Snape asked.

“I don’t know,” she answered honestly. “He won’t tell me. You could ask him. Maybe you could help him.” She was desperate, maybe Snape could intervene. He certainly was the only adult in the school who stood a chance at getting to the bottom of it. Snape sighed and put Draco’s fraudulent essay with the others.

“I take plagiarism very seriously,” Snape said.

“Then give me detention, if you must, but please leave him out of it. It was my idea. He didn’t ask me to help him, I insisted on-”

“I don’t want to give you detention and I’m not going to this time. A word of advice, Miss Winters, you should cease this level of involvement with Malfoy, for your own sake.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You may go. Get some rest.”

Valeria did as she was told, knowing it would be fruitless to argue with him further. She clenched her jaw, anxious over the conversation. Had she revealed too much? Had she inadvertently put Draco in danger? What was she even supposed to do? These questions plagued her throughout the rest of the day into her free period where she took more inventory for Slughorn. She used the opportunity to take more ingredients from the stores when he was elsewhere. She knew how to make simple potions to stave off hunger and keep her awake. Given the state of her, she figured they would prove to be useful. At dinner though just looking at the food caused her stomach to turn. She told her friends she’d be in the library, before stashing some dry foods in her bags and making her way up to the seventh floor before anyone noticed she lied about her destination. 

She wasn’t the only one whose dreams were becoming more vivid and frightening. 

He was home, moving through the darkened, dim halls of Malfoy Manor, but it didn’t feel safe. It was empty, eerie sounds he couldn’t place seemed to lurk around every corner.

_“Draco…”_

He turned, Odessa Winters was on her knees staring at him with wide bloodshot eyes. Her hair was straggly, she appeared to age a decade, her clothes were disheveled and her hands were trembling as the reached for him.

_“Draco, she’s my daughter. My last living…You’ve always been her friend. You’ve always been so good to her…You have to help her, Draco. You must protect her.”_

He tried to speak, but the words never left him, no matter how had he tried to force them out. The more he backed away, the more desperately she crawled to him and the louder she pleaded. Until she was screaming at him, screaming her name: 

_“Valeria! Valeria! Valeria! Valeria!”_

 

“Draco?” 

He awoke with an icy shudder to sound of his name, back in the dark and quiet Room of Requirement. He scrambled for his wand and his behind a stack of discarded chairs.

“Draco? Are you in here?” 

He lowered his wand, breathing deep to urge his heart to return to a normal pace. He quickly stepped forward so she did not wander too far towards what he was working on. 

Valeria almost jumped when she saw him appear from the mountains of stuff, but was relieved to see him.

“There you are,” she fumbled around in her bag for some bread and cheese she took from dinner and handed it to him. He thanked her.

“How were classes?” he asked.

“Bad,” she said making off from her makeshift brewing stations. “I barely slept last night and Snape found out I wrote your essay.”

“And!?”

“We’re not in trouble. Not yet at least. He let me off the hook this time, but I’m getting clumsy,” she said, pulling a forgotten cauldron she discovered from a pile.

“Maybe you should stop. We’ll get in more trouble for that than just me not doing the homework,” he said.

“And then what? Land yourself in detention, unable to come here? It’s worth the risk and I’ve made it this far. I was just lazy this time and I’m fixing it,” she said as she knelt to the ground and removed the stolen ingredients from her bag. He sighed, having no energy to argue with her further.

“What are you making now?” he asked.

“A simple alertness potion. It’ll keep us awake if we need it, but we have to use it very carefully or we’ll both end up in the hospital wing. And you? How is it coming?”

Draco frowned. “It’s fine. I’m working on it.” Valeria didn’t believe him, but decided not to push it as she begun the brewing process. “Chosen your outfit for this Slugclub nonsense?” he asked, trying to divert her attention from the matter, but she allowed it. 

“Last year’s dress robes. They’re simple, but they’ll do. I didn’t exactly get an opportunity to buy any this summer,” she said, getting to work on brewing in the third cauldron. She was embarrassed about the dress robes, though she knew that no one would know the difference. It had been a tradition between her and her mother since before she even started at Hogwarts to purchase new dress robes each summer. It was the time when they were closest, doing something they both enjoyed. Thinking on it made Valeria miss the mother she thought she knew and angry for not hearing a single word from her. 

“I’m sure you’ll look better than all of them,” Draco said, trying to sound genuine, but falling just short. She appreciated his effort regardless. “You never told me much about the summer.”

“What’s there to tell? I spent most of it practically imprisoned in that overcrowded makeshift house,” Valeria said, adding the final touches to the alertness potion before giving it time to brew. Draco shrugged.

“I just didn’t hear from you-”

“I told you everything important,” she said, moving on to make adjustments to the other more complex potions. “I told you that the Tonks woman interrogated me about the Department of Mysteries and that Potter saw you in Knockturn Alley.”

“That’s not what I meant,” he said. She looked up at him, trying to read his expression for what he was getting at. “I wanted to know how you were.”

With the potions all set, there was nothing else to do but sit by and wait. She sat along the edge of the cold wall and told Draco the story in more detail, omitting to her shame the fact that she agreed to go to the Ministry with the former DA members. What they likely believed to be her noblest act, if they cared, was her heaviest regret. Draco sat on and listened, for once refraining from interjecting, though he could not help himself but scoff at some of the things she said.

“I never thought I’d feel so out of place,” she said after rambling for quite a while. “They kept saying I wasn’t being punished, but it sure felt like I was. I was nice to them for years and the moment it wasn’t convenient, they treated me like some kind of monster."

“If they can’t see you the same, then they were never really your friends. Hell, they brought you into all that-” he began.

“I should never have been involved at all. I can’t stand to even look at Potter now,” she said with a little laugh. Draco looked down.

“We’ve been involved since we were born, whether we knew it or not,” he said darkly. She thought on his words against her wishes as they were unbearable to hear aloud. He was right. It was all, in some ways, destined to happen. She had been embroiled into this world of theirs since birth, raised in it, and trained to defend it. What she felt, where her morals, if she had them, stood did not matter and they never did. She could not help but tremble a little as she choked up and the tears she had spent so long holding back threatened to break through.

“I’m just so tired…I’m so angry-” she said shakily, but Draco put his arm around her and brought her close to him. The anger had been eating at her. She had rage for Potter and his friends, for what they had inadvertently caused and for what they represented. It was disgusting her less and less that she did want them to suffer for what they had done, but she felt too powerless and frightened of herself to ever act on her vengeful urges.

“I know. I am too. I am too,” he whispered before a long pause. “Do you remember when we got lost at the Manor?”

“What were we? Five? Of course. We visited after sending Konstantin off on the Hogwarts Express and you had the brilliant idea to show me your favorite spot, by that old oak tree. Your mother was distraught when they finally found us,” she recalled, laughing a little.

“I think she was more embarrassed than anything. Losing her best friend’s daughter within hours of arrival and all.” 

“We must have wandered for hours and you just kept saying you knew the way.”

“Wasn’t the last time I’d try to lead you astray,” he said. 

“You know, that’s not how I felt. I honestly believed you. I was nervous, but I remember feeling safe with you. And it was a bit fun.”

“Yeah, I guess it was. We should have stayed there, by that oak tree. We could have built a life and never come back.”  

She laughed. “We would have been found eventually, if we didn’t get sick of each other first.” 

“You know what I mean,” he said. The memory felt like it belonged to a different person now. It wasn’t hers anymore and she had no business keeping it. It belonged to the happy girl, who loved the world and its magic. But she was desperate to hold onto it and all others like it. Though it felt wrong, she would not let anyone take it away nor the sliver of hope that something else might be possible if the two of them stuck together.

“The alertness potion will be done soon. I should probably get going then,” she said.

“Or we can stay here just a little longer,” he said. She had yet to consider the Room of Requirement a refuge, but the thought of having to leave and put on an act of innocence once more filled her with dread. She relaxed into him a bit more.

“Just a little bit, yeah.”

 

To her surprise, she awoke to Draco shaking her and saying her name. Disoriented and rather sore, she sat herself up.

“We fell asleep. We need to go,” he said. The ache of sleeping upright on the stone floor left her as she panicked. She quickly fumbled for vials and filled them with the alertness potion, handing half to Draco for his own use. The quietly departed the room into the dark, empty halls, not knowing how many hours had passed while they were asleep. Draco cursed under his breath as he looked around corners for any late-night passersby.

“I’m sorry, Draco,” she said, noticing his stress. 

“It’s my fault. I should have just kept working,” he said. They moved quickly and managed to make it to the second floor without even a close call. Draco gripped her hand tightly as he pulled her along, and even tighter when the unmistakable sound of footsteps came from around the corner, the one they needed to take.

“Draco, stop,” she whispered.

“Shit,” he cursed, hearing it too. Valeria looked around and pulled on his arm to bring him into a narrow alcove by a darkened window. The space was so cramped that the two of them were forced up against each other. “What are you doing?”

“Just follow my lead if it comes to that,” she said. He opened his mouth to protest, but chose to listen to the sound of the steps which were getting louder and closer. She could feel his heart race in his chest and her own seemed to speed up to match. Closer and closer came the sound and she released his hand and embraced him. Finally, as the stranger was nearly upon them, she leaned up, kissing him hard and deep. He briefly froze, but leaned into it after a moment, taking her body in his arms as she did him. Palms shaking and hearts racing, they kept snogging for what felt like eons until the steps stopped short.

“Got ya!” the stranger said. Draco and Valeria broke the kiss to find Anthony Goldstein with his wand shining light on them. “Malfoy and Winters? So the rumors that you two are back together are true. Bit late for a tryst though, don’t you think?” Of course, their discoverer had to be Terry Boot’s good friend. Just her luck.

“Jealous, Goldstein? Bit pathetic to take your loneliness out on us,” Draco said snidely.

“I’m certainly not jealous of the ten points I’ll be taking from Slytherin. You two have made my night.

“You forget that I’m also a prefect-” Draco began.

“One who has been neglecting his duties, so I’ve heard. Besides, _she_ isn’t,” Goldstein said.

“Don’t worry, Draco. These people have so little going on that this is how they fill their time. I’m sure the most interesting thing in Goldstein’s life for the next month will be telling this story. He always repeated himself last year; rather annoying, actually,” Valeria said.

“Terry has long since gotten over your little romance, if that's what you mean, Winters. Trust me, no one cares what you get up to anymore,” Goldstein said. 

“Then why am I always catching him staring at her in Potions? Perhaps I should have a chat with him,” Draco said.

“And why do you care so much about catching us, if it makes no difference to you?” Valeria asked.

“It doesn’t to me, but it does to your house points, which is more than enough for me. I am curious though, why are you two snogging all the way up here? Dungeons not romantic enough?”

“We’ve given away too many secrets as it is for one evening. Let’s go, Draco,” Valeria said, grabbing Draco’s hand. 

“See you in Potions, Goldstein,” Draco said. They made their way hand in hand all the way down to the common room without further incident, but once inside they looked at each other and laughed. 

“I’m sorry about the house points,” Valeria said through the laughter. He only shrugged. 

“I could care less. That was worth it though,” he said. 

“It’s going to be all over the school by breakfast, you know,” she said.

“Good,” he replied.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a bit quick, so I apologize for any typos I missed, but I wanted to get it out. I expect the next installment to be a bit longer or at least more dramatic. Thank you for making it this far.


	11. Promises

_"Every time, it all falls apart," she said weakly._

_"You're doing better than you think you are," he said._

_*****_

Valeria wandered in late to breakfast to find her friend’s eyes on her as she approached the Slytherin table. 

“You were caught with Draco’s face on yours last night?” Tracey asked

“That’s one way to put it,” Valeria said. She was not annoyed with the inevitable interrogation. Last night felt like a pleasant haze, despite the stress and lost house points. She enjoyed kissing Draco, she enjoyed a bit of innocent scandal, she even enjoyed the attention now being given to her. She felt as though this was a taste of how it was supposed to be, a sense of what her life would be had it not all gone so wrong.

“So it’s true! Is that why you two have been acting so weird? How did you wind up on the third floor?” Tracey prodded.

“Some things should be left as mysteries,” Valeria said, flashing a hint of her characteristic smirk.

“It’s all over the school,” Daphne said, leaning over the table to speak quietly. “Even Boot has been looking over here.” Valeria looked up at the Ravenclaw table and sure enough, Terry was looking over while Goldstein was talking to him. He glanced back down the moment their eyes locked and she let out a little laugh. 

The warm feelings creeping up in her were unfortunately fleeting, particularly in Charms class, as nothing squashed Valeria’s love of learning more than tediously practicing wand movements. In the spirit of the holidays, which Hogwarts was dutifully decorating and preparing for, Flitwick had set the students to conjuring flowers non-verbally.

“They’re all wilted,” Valeria said in dismay, looking at the sorry state of the roses she had conjured up.

“You have to actually care,” Draco, fortunately in attendance, scolded. The two of them partnered to practice for this lesson, but had yet to discuss the night before with any depth. He had to be aware of the rapidly spreading tale of their late-night indiscretion, but was completely unmoved.

“Giving me a lecture about trying harder? What have we become?” Valeria said, rolling her eyes.

“I don’t know why I bothered. You know full well that it’s just as much about willpower,” he said.

“And you care so deeply about fucking flowers,” Valeria snapped, unable to hide her frustration.

“Language, Winters!” Flitwick called, to which Valeria responded with a mumbled apology.

“I don’t, but you have to have a reason behind what you’re casting. Watch the master at work,” he said before pointing his wand to the table and conjuring from thin air four perfect lilac blooms that immediately wafted a strong, perfect fragrance. Valeria’s heart skipped a little to her shame.

“Excellent, Mr. Malfoy!” Flitwick said, drawing disapproving looks from Potter and Boot, amongst others. Of course, it had to be flowers right after their snog session…

“Easy as that,” Draco said in his self-congratulatory tone. Valeria was not ready to be outdone, so she concentrated as she spoke the spell in her mind. She remembered the lilac bush at home, the one her brother had placed for her and the one he was buried under. She missed it desperately, she missed home so deeply, and hoped that the flowers would continue to bloom on it despite everything. With that, two full and vibrant purple blooms formed on the table before her, adding to the sweet fragrance already in the air. Flitwick congratulated her on her effort and Draco muttered an “ _I told you so_.” It was a good thing, she supposed. It was progress, but she could not help but look at those blooms and feel anything except wrenching heartache.

Feeling the exhaustion begin to cloud her mind, she broke off from the group heading to Transfiguration along with Draco. They shared a vile of the alertness potion she had made and while they felt more awake, it did nothing to mask Draco’s thinning face and burdened expression. At least she had glamors to aid her in that regard, and she was about to half-jokingly offer him some as well when he dismissed himself and headed up to the seventh floor. 

“Off alone with him? Don’t want to get caught sucking face again, do you?” Potter said from behind as Valeria made her way to class. He was flanked by his friends, Weasley appearing disinterested and Granger annoyed, but Boot had also joined them wearing one of the most impressive scowls Valeria had ever seen. 

Valeria laughed. “Stalking is not becoming of you, Potter. People might get the wrong idea.”

“Why were you on the third floor last night?” he asked.

“Harry, we’re going to be late,” Granger said. 

“The dungeons have their own quirky romantic ambience, but we wanted a little change of scenery. Why do you care so much, Potter? I could give you every salacious detail, if you like,” Valeria said. Weasley’s face contorted into a look of disgust.

“Protecting him won’t do you any favors. I know you two didn’t crawl out of the dungeons just to snog,” Potter said.

“It’s not worth it, Harry. Come on,” Weasley said.

“Protect him from what? _You_? Really, Potter, this little paranoia of yours has been fun, but it’s getting a little pathetic now. Our big secret out, so at long last it might be time to finally start minding your own bloody business,” Valeria said 

“It’s not paranoia if it’s true!” Potter said, nearly shouting. Granger grabbed him by the arm and mumbled some scolding words as she dragged him away, followed by Ron. Valeria looked on, letting out a small laugh to herself. 

“He’s not good for you,” Boot said and she turned to face him, almost forgetting he was there.

“Like you would know anything about what’s good for me,” Valeria spat. 

“You weren’t like this last year. He’s just going to drag you down,” he said.

“Things change, Boot, especially when you discover who’s really on your side,” she said, angered and deeply insulted at his audacity. 

“He’s a lost cause. But you still have a choice,” he said. Their silly little romance had been so childish and fleeting, she kicked herself for ever having invested in it at all. His nerve at approaching her like this sent her emotions flying towards rage. Draco’s words were in her mind: _You’re from a different world_ , and how right he had been. The more her former acquaintances turned on her, the longer this horrid year dragged on, the more correct Draco’s assertions sounded each day. In fact, the words coming out of her mouth, scathing and resentful, sounded more like his own. She was undoubtedly in the dark about a great deal still and that anxiety ate at her, but one thing was certain; She was on the side that kept her safe and on whatever side protected Draco. She turned without another word and left Boot standing there alone, determined and resolute.

 

Slughorn’s party was fast approaching and she was spending the hours before the time of departure prepating. If she had to walk into this thing alone while waiting for Draco to make his appearance, she was going to look her absolute best. Though her robes were out of fashion and needed some tending to, as they had been sitting folded up in a trunk for a year, she was enjoying the distraction. She was excited to have a part of her old self back, the girl who could charm a room, just like she had been taught to do.

 _Reputation is currency, Valeria_ , she remembered her father saying. But looking in the mirror was discouraging. She was certainly looking at her own face, a bit more made up than usual, but still tasteful, yet she hardly recognized herself. She could hardly stand to face herself and felt a little ill while doing so. It all seemed so futile and so incredibly disingenuous that she considered feigning illness and staying behind. But, when she donned her robes, she felt like she was wearing impenetrable armor. A vision in deep purple, old fashioned and yet sophisticated, she felt the change as she held her head higher and her back straightened. She gained confidence with each step at the sound of her clacking shoes on the stony ground.

“Miss Winters! Come on in. I’m so glad you could make it and don’t you look lovely!” Slughorn greeted her upon her arrival. It was quite the party, looking around the crowded, festively decorated room.

“Thank you, Professor. I’ve very much been looking forward to this,” Valeria said.

“And I do hope I meet your, I’m sure incredibly high, expectations. Will your guest be joining us?” 

“He will be on in a bit, I do apologize for his delay, but he had a prior commitment he must attend to,” Valeria said.

“Well, in the meantime do grab some refreshments. I see Silas is over there and I’m sure he’d be thrilled to see you,” Slughorn said. Valeria thanked him and followed his advice, greeting Silas with a big smile and a handshake.

“I simply devoured your book, sir, absolutely groundbreaking work!” Valeria said genuinely, deliberately omitting her own experimentation based on his work.

“I’m very glad to hear. I’m sure someday that will come as the highest of praise,” he said. She was actually enjoying his conversation so much, her confidence reemerging with full force, that she failed to notice Potter looking over at her every so often accompanied by Luna Lovegood. 

“Winters is alone. That’s odd don’t you think?” Harry asked Luna.

“I overheard some Slytherins in the library mention that Malfoy was meant to be her date. I wonder where he is,” Luna responded.

“Yeah. I wonder…” Harry trailed off.

“Ah, Severus, good to see you again, I was just speaking with one of your star students,” Silas said as Snape wandered over to them. Valeria nodded in greeting, the mead quelling what little anxiety had remained.

“You as well, Silas. Taking an interest in poisons, Winters?” Snape asked, aware of Silas’s work, in a way that made Valeria suspicious of the subtext of his question.

“Purely academic, sir. I greatly admire his international approach. The Hogwarts curriculum, while excellent, can feel a little too narrow at times,” Valeria said.

“Which is why students such as yourself, with that spark of curiosity will be our future, Miss Winters. I’m finding that it’s becoming rarer that students pursue their interests outside of assigned schoolwork,” Silas replied.

“Indeed,” Snape said, staring at Valeria. While she admired Snape, she never liked how he spoke as though he knew something he was not telling.. Even now it made her incredibly uneasy and she desperately looked for a way out of the conversation. 

“Is this the potion master corner?” Slughorn asked, approaching the group. “I’m not surprised you all found each other.” 

“You flatter me, sir,” Valeria said.

“Not at all. Potions can be perceived by some as rather tedious, which is why I’m so glad that you and Potter seem to have a natural gift for the discipline,” Slughorn said. 

“Potter?” Snape said, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes, he is a natural, Severus. Completely brilliant! In fact, I think you and him should work together more, Miss Winters. I believe you stand to learn a great deal from one another,” Slughorn said cheerfully.

“Having taught Miss Winters since her start at Hogwarts, it would seem that she is perfectly capable on her own. Certainly would not want to distract her from her pursuits,” Snape said snidely.

“Oh, I think quite the opposite would happen, Severus-” Slughorn began. 

“Collaboration is the heart of learning, is it not?” Valeria said, trying to remain on Slughorn’s good side while trying not to laugh at the thought of working on Potions homework with Potter. Potter’s sudden and impressive skill in Potions had made her suspicious, considering his stint in remedial Potions last year, but she figured Granger was helping him or Slughorn had some hand in it, given his obvious favoritism.

“Well put!” Slughorn said. “Forgive us talking about you as if you were not here. To learning!” He raised his glass and all responded in kind, save for Snape.

“Now, I think it’s time we let Miss Winters mingle with the young ones for a minute. Silas, I must introduce to another guest. She just spent last spring study the efficacy of mold spores in antidotes…” Slughorn continued, dragging Silas away. Valeria nodded to Snape and gracefully wandered off before he had the chance to speak. She mingled about with other guests, particularly the ones Slughorn had invited, taking the time to introduce herself and forge connections. She felt enlivened, happy, back to her sense of normal. As the party went on, she eventually ran into Blaise.

“You look good,” he said half-heartedly. “Malfoy will be sorry he missed out.” 

“He’ll be along. What about your date?” she asked. He gestured into the crowd.

“Genevieve Hart,” he said. Valeria knew her, another Slytherin a year below them, though she didn’t know her well at all. “Talking to that fashion designer, what’s-her-name.”

“Good for you. She’s always seemed like she has her wits about her,” Valeria said.

“She does, but don’t get the wrong idea. I can’t wait for this to be over. You seem to be doing well, though, not that anyone expected anything less, especially without Malfoy here to distract you,” Blaise said. Though he never explicitly disapproved of whatever was going on between her and Draco, he did take the incident on the third floor as confirmation of his suspicions as to why Draco was slacking at Quidditch.

“Come off it, Zabini. I thrive at these things, with or without Draco,” she said. The sound of a scuffle, and intrusion that instantly sucked the life out of the party and made Valeria’s spirits sink into the floor interrupted their conversation.

“Speak of the devil,” Blaise sighed lazily. Valeria could not match Blaise’s nonchalance to see Draco being dragged by Filch into the room.

“I told you I’m a guest!” Draco was nearly shouting. 

“Professor Slughorn, I discovered this boy lurking in an upstairs corridor. He claims to have been invited to your party and to have been delayed in setting out. Did you issue him with an invitation?” Filch said, looking as though he had discovered a pot of gold. Valeria rushed instinctively to the center of the action.

“Professor, Draco is my guest. I am so deeply sorry for the confusion,” Valeria said to Slughorn, maintaining perfect composure.

“See, I told you! Happy?” Draco said, only making an awkward situation worse.

“I am not! Why then were you prowling about upstairs, paying no mind to the Headmaster’s clear rules?” Filch responded, having looked angered by Valeria’s defense. 

“There must be some misunderstanding. Perhaps I told him the wrong location,” Valeria said.

“That's all right, Argus, that's all right,” Slughorn said. “I’m sure it’s but a simple comedy of errors. I see no reason for punishment, it is Christmas after all!” To Valeria’s great relief, Draco managed to pull himself together and though he looked deeply annoyed, she certainly could tell, he was playing off the incident well.

“Thank you, sir. My deepest apologies for the rude entrance,” Draco said, shaking his hand. 

“Not at all, Malfoy. We’ve all had our little embarrassments at parties, none more than myself! I’m so glad you could join Miss Winters. I hope you know that you’re a lucky young man!”

“I do, sir, most definitely. Valeria has been a very good friend for a long time and I’m grateful for her invitation,” Draco said, taking Valeria arm-in-arm. “My grandfather always spoke so highly of you. Said you were the best potion-maker he'd ever known.”

“Yes, quite the man he was!” 

“I’d like a word with you, Draco,” Snape said, creeping up to the conversation.

“Now, Severus. it's Christmas, don't be too hard—” Slughorn began  
  
“I am his Head of House, and I shall decide how hard, or otherwise, to be,” Snape said.

“Sir, please forgive me, but I must protest. Draco is my guest and he’s only just arrived,” Valeria said.

“Yes, Severus, it’d be pointless to soil their evenings—” Slughorn said, noticeably intoxicated.

“You’ve managed this long without him here, I have full confidence you can handle a bit more time,” Snape said. “Follow me, Draco.” Draco glowered at Snape, but did not protest save flashing an apologetic look to Valeria who stood on speechless. She held her glass with an iron grip, paralyzed and feeling absolutely mortified. She was furious, but at whom or what she could not place. If reputation was everything, if she had spent so long trying to rebuild her name, then this was a certain threat to her already fragile position. 

“I do apologize for that. I’m sure they’ll return soon,” said Slughorn sympathetically. 

“No, sir, it’s my fault. He must have misheard me when I told him the location,” she said, continuing to apologize and trying not to stew in the resentment that was building in her. She told Draco how important this was to her, even if it was just a silly soiree. He knew and he chose to be reckless. She was so upset and trying so hard to hide it, she paid no mind to the other guests, including Potter.

“Luna, listen, I need to run to the-uh-bathroom, but I need you to go talk to Valeria before she has the chance to slip out,” Harry said.

“Sure. I haven’t yet gotten to talk to her,” Luna said as Harry rushed to the door. Slughorn and Valeria eventually parted and Valeria knew that she could not let this go. This was the perfect opportunity to go out unnoticed and hunt him down…

“Hi, Valeria!” Lovegood said, stepping between her and the exit.

“Hello, Lovegood. Good to see you,” Valeria said, eyes darting to the exit.

“You too, though I’ve seen you around all year and we haven’t talked. How strange! I heard you mention Finnish Transfiguration techniques the other day. Have you heard of the Finnish Fire Fox? It can transfigure ordinary objects to suddenly burst into flame and move through homes completely undetected,” Luna said.

“How terrifying,” Valeria said curtly, hardly making sense of what Luna was saying.

“Yes, they say that it’s responsible for twenty-two percent of fire related domestic accidents and yet the European Ministry has made no effort to handle it. It may very well be that they’re waiting to use the animal’s abilities against political opponents or worse!” Luna rambled on. Valeria had a pet peeve for rudeness at social events, including suddenly exiting conversations, but Lovegood was testing her nerves almost as if on purpose. The girl continued, somehow talking about Mongolian Magical Banking Systems and Valeria could not take it.

“I’m very sorry to interrupt you, but I think I spilled something on my robes and need to find a mirror to check. We’ll continue this in a moment?” Valeria said. 

“Naturally. Use powdered seashell cleaning solution. You’ll smell like the sea and your robes will be spotless!” Luna said. Valeria barely heard her as she darted for the door and began wandering the halls looking for Draco. Full of ireful determination, she resolved to not return to the party nor the common room until she gave him the earful he deserved. She followed the sound of hard, furious sounding steps and went towards them, finding Draco heading towards the staircases at a quickened pace. She ran up to him and caught him by the arm, dragging him into an alcove in the hall. She was so incensed that she ignored a nagging little feeling that someone saw her.

“How dare you!” she said through gritted teeth. Draco did not look her in the eye, but he was incredibly tense. “One thing. I asked one thing of you.” 

“Valeria—”

“You will not talk your way out of this. Not with me,” she said, nearly shaking in anger. “I asked for an hour and you couldn’t give me that. You just used me as an excuse. Was that the plan all along? You didn’t even consider—”

“I did—”

“I have been doing your dirty work and you can’t manage one hour!”

“Valeria, please—”

“You humiliated me! After everything I’ve done for you—”

“I never asked for that!” he hissed.

“And yet where would you be without me? You’ve done nothing but ask for my help and the one time I want yours, you completely fuc—” 

“Stop!” Draco said, his voice echoing through the hall.

To her surprise, she listened. She noticed the volume of her own voice, harsh and sharp like daggers, but it was looking at him that made her halt her aggression. Tears, real tears, filled his eyes as he looked down in shame or distress. This was not the boy of years prior throwing a tantrum, this was a withering young man wasting away with every lash of her tongue.  

“I just need time,” he whispered. “I’m not doing this for me…I’m not doing it for me. If I don’t...he’s going to-he’s going to—” he tried to say, but his panicked breath raced ahead of his words and he could not speak the rest aloud. He trembled against the words that tried to escape and, instinctively, she reached up and took his face in his hands. 

“Draco, you cannot keep going on like this,” she said softly and sincerely, seeing just how miserable he had become.

“There’s no way...I have to do this and I have to do it alone. It’s not just me if I don’t—”

“But you’re not alone. What did I just say? I’m here. I’ve been helping—”

“It’s my fault. It’s my fault…You shouldn’t be part of any of this.”

“Yet here I am. You told me we’ve both been involved since the beginning,” she said. She paused trying to muster the bravery to speak. “Draco, is any of this to do with me?”

“What?” 

“You’ve said that you’re doing this for me. What does that mean?” she asked. He trembled again, shivering against the chill of terror.  

“You don’t understand—”

“Then tell me, for god’s sake!”

“If I fail, you’ll…you’ll…He’s going to—You…you…” He stuttered, nearly weeping. Her heart sank and her blood went cold at the sound of “ _He_.” She didn’t want to believe what she already knew. In truth, she had been fearing for it, for Draco and for her, for quite some time, deep in the shadowy reaches of her mind. She had an inkling, a gut feeling that tore her insides apart, but for it to be true it would have to be said aloud and neither of them wanted to hear it. She knew more than she had realized. 

“Can I see your arm, Draco?” He looked at her, wide eyed, falling apart. “If you can’t say it, I need to see it.” Without his permission, her fingers teased for the cuff of his left sleeve. He twitched at the touch, but didn’t pull away. She carefully lifted the sleeve inches above his wrist and saw creeping out from under a black swirl on his skin. That was all it took for her to recoil and let the panic overtake her own senses and he took her face in his hands before she could speak. 

“You need to stay out of this, for your own sake,” he whispered harshly. “Do you understand what’s at stake now?”

She nodded weakly. “I know that you are.” She wanted to know more, but was too frightened to ask, stewing in possibilities was easier than knowing the truth. She knew all too well what happened to those who bore that mark and did not succeed. Her anger and humiliation dissipated and all she wanted to do was take him by the hand and run far away, even knowing it was impossible. No one who is marked leaves alive. Despite it all, Draco was safest here, going about his task, at least for now. “If I can’t help you with what you’re trying to do, at least let me help keep you alive.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re getting clumsy and you won’t be able to maintain this. I am going to help you, if only to keep you alive. That’s all I want,” she said.

“Did you not hear what I said?” he asked, frustrated.

“If any part of this is for me, then let me repay that debt,” she said.

“Don’t talk like that.”

“It’s the truth, isn’t it?” she asked. “I’ll stay out of it. I won’t ask questions. I will do whatever needs to be done and I promise that I will stop at nothing to keep you as safe as I can.”

He waited to respond, touching his forehead to hers, gently running his thumbs across her cheek bones, and she could feel his uneven breath on her face. He wanted to accept desperately, but could not assuage the guilt that came with it. They both knew that they would be better off together and she was committed to keeping her word, no matter the cost, no matter the methods. 

He slowly nodded. “I promise the same.”

She reached up for him with anxious hands and their bodies touched. Another her would have found this romantic, had the moment not been steeped with pain. She only wanted him there with her, ever present if possible, forever, and a part of her was relishing this quiet peace in the midst of omnipresent danger. Their lips met without thinking, enveloped in cold wintry moonlight, and they held each other, both refusing to ever let go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for making it this far! Thank you to those who've left kudos!


	12. Gifts

_"I had nothing more to give you. That's why I had to do it," he said._

_"You're a fool."_

_*****_

Draco was anxious, a feeling he had since become quite accustomed to, but he could not stop bouncing his leg at breakfast. Most of his fellow students were running around saying their goodbyes to their friends for the holidays, but Draco sat on picking at his food. He could not wait for the majority of the students to be gone. He had half a mind to put his head down on the table and rest his eyes for a moment, exhausted after the previous evening’s emotional escapade. Valeria appeared to have skipped the meal altogether and remained in bed, or so Greengrass told it. Though he envied Valeria, he had to stay awake and await the package that was supposed to be arriving any day now.

He was roused from a half-conscious trance when an owl plopped a small, but heavy package before him. He tossed the bird some bacon and quickly grabbed hold of the delivery before making a hasty exit back down to his dormitory where the other boys in his year were finishing their last-minute packing. Draco stood with his back turned towards the group at his own bed as he carefully began unwrapping the parcel.

“What’s that? An early present?” Blaise asked.

“Yeah, just something from home,” Draco dismissed. Blaise took no further interest in it, as far as Draco could tell, and so he slowly continued unwrapping it. The other boys waved their goodbyes as they left the room, one by one, and Draco was finally alone enough to examine what he had purchased. Inside the wrapping, was a small black box, discrete and easily overlooked by wandering eyes, just how he had wanted. He opened the box only to be met with a folded note.

 

_Dear Mr. Malfoy,_

_I hope it is to your liking. Please let me know if you require any adjustments._

_Always at your service,_

_Borgin_

 

Draco frowned. " _What was the point of discretion if the idiot put his name on it?"_ He quickly dispatched the note by setting it aflame with a non-verbal spell, letting it burn itself out and disappear. As the little embers fell, a shimmer caught his eye and he saw in the opened box a shining serpentine coil. Carefully, he removed it as if it would shatter if not handled with absolute gentleness. He examined it, the metal surprisingly warm to the touch and the serpent wrapped around twice. Its scales were delicately carved and it bore two deep purple stones for eyes that seemed to flicker on their own. He was quite pleased with how well his crudely explained design had been executed and was satisfied, making a mental note to send Borgin the second half of the money owed. Draco attempted to slide it onto his own wrist, to sate his mild curiosity, to no avail. It refused to open itself larger to accommodate his wrist and he remembered the page he had torn out of one his father’s old books, digging through his drawer to find and reread it. 

_“Protective Wards are often enchanted trinkets, most commonly jewelry, that have the ability to weaken the power of many curses, hexes, and jinxes cast against the wearer as well as tremble slightly to warn of a magical threat in the vicinity. When made correctly, they are much stronger than charmed objects for the same use due to the unique process by which they are crafted. The enchantment is part of the creation of a Ward and once made, the Ward will not protect any other than for whom it is intended.  The two main requirements are silver (for its ability to repel dark magic) and the blood from a loved one of the protected individual. The blood must be given voluntarily while the loved one is thinking deeply of the protected individual. Wards can be made into any shape or form, as the blood and silver are mixed as part of the forging process. These objects will fail should the giver not feel the deepest sentiments toward the protected, but will remain powerful even after the death of the giver, as their blood lives on within the object itself._

_Such objects are incredibly difficult to make. The secrets of their crafting were heavily guarded in the ages past, and have fallen out of common knowledge, though there remain some with the alchemical skill to achieve it. As Wards are based upon the magical powers of strong emotions, the skills required are highly difficult to master, given the ancient and abstract qualities of such magic. These objects will fail should the giver not feel the deepest forms of love for the protected, but will remain powerful even after the death of the giver, as their blood runs through them._

_Most commonly given to those going into extremely dangerous situations such as war, Wards were outlawed in 1742 due to some abuses surrounding them, particularly their secret use in duels to gain an advantage. As well, counterfeit ones circulated with false information guaranteeing the wearer ultimate safety, causing many to suffer believing they could enter a dangerous situation and come out unscathed._

_While powerful, Wards cannot protect against the Killing Curse. They can lighten the severity of the Cruciatus Curse, though only just, and render the Imperius Curse easier to resist. No Ward can ever grant total immunity for the wearer and the strength of the opponent can greatly impact the Ward’s protective abilities.”_

Draco sighed. It was nowhere near a perfect solution for his liking, and he swore he’d have Borgin’s head if it was a fake, but having this peace of mind for himself was far too important to resist.

  

“And what about Winters?” Harry asked Ron in the confines of the Burrow the following day. “Doesn’t it seem like she’s helping Malfoy with whatever this task is?” 

“I dunno,” Ron said. “You didn’t actually see or hear much. It is weird, I’ll give you that, but being Malfoy's girlfriend isn’t a crime, even if it should be.”

“She just yelled at him and then suddenly stopped. Then they were whispering and Malfoy was upset. I’m pretty sure I saw her look at his left arm-” Harry said.

“But you said you couldn’t see anything from where you stood. Honestly, you can talk to Lupin or dad about it, but they’ll probably say it doesn’t amount to anything too,” Ron said with a shrug.

 

Meanwhile, Hogwarts was so peacefully calm that Valeria felt as though she could breathe again. She sat by the fire, surrounded by wrapping paper hearing nothing but crackling flame and the gentle whooshes of the Black Lake just outside the window. The common room was decorated in a most stately manner, garlands hung perfectly all around and a gigantic wreath above the fireplace, all illuminated in muted green color from the Black Lake.

The décor had barely changed since she started at Hogwarts including the impressively large tree that stood proud and full just to the side. She had ordered gifts for her friends shamefully late since she usually just re-gifted presents she did not want, but as she expected nothing from home this year, she had to search catalogues for thoughtful gifts herself. She was enjoying the monotony of ordering and eventually wrapping using spells her mother had taught her. Packages had been slowly trickling in from all around by the day and she was looking forward to a little festive joy, trying to ignore the fact that this was her first Christmas without her father and brother. She placed the girls’ gifts on their beds, but left the others, primarily Draco’s under the tree.

She was spending a large chunk of her time wandering the castle grounds, though far less peaceful an activity given the extra security measures around the school. The winter air was so crisp and fresh, so incredibly calming that she could hardly resist it. The fresh, undefiled snow blanketing the castle and its surroundings was a vision in pure white. Gazing up at the stone towers she tried to push the image of home, her own little castle in Wales, out of her mind. The snow was surely piling high in the Welsh mountains and she remembered waking on Christmas mornings to see white hills and gray skies that stretched on forever out her narrow windows. The courtyard too was full of mounds of white, blown about by the wind, gracing her magical lilac bush, perpetually in bloom; a little splash of color in the new monochrome world. But her heart saddened to remember her brother’s grave under that very bush, buried deeper in snow, and she could not think on it any longer.

She had invited Draco several times on her strolls, even to their special spot on the shore of the Black Lake, so she could enjoy the outdoors and be distracted from her darker thoughts, but he regrettably refused each time. Even the quiet of the empty cool did nothing to calm his nerves, which she understood and did not argue, but made her feel lonelier than one ought to be near Christmas. She decided to tend to her work in the Room of Requirement on Christmas Eve to at least be near him and not completely alone on the holiday.

“Are you sure that’s poison?” he asked, approaching her little work area late into the night. “It doesn’t smell like one.”

She smiled. “Good observation. According to the book, it’s supposed to smell and even taste good so that the intended victim will more willingly ingest it, especially in food or drinks,” she said.

“Shouldn’t poisons aim to be undetectable?” he asked.

“You would think, and surely only someone well versed in poisons will be able to detect it by smell, but it could be a useful strategy,” she said. He raised an eyebrow as if he had an idea.

“So, is it done then? You’ve been working on that forever.”

“Not quite and it will take quite a bit longer. It won’t be done until February, early March at the latest,” she said.

“Damn, I don’t know how you have the patience for it,” he said.

She shrugged. “I’ve learned a lot from it and it’s something to do. I’ll take some notes, and maybe a vial or two, once it’s done and then get rid of it.”

“Probably for the best,” Draco said. “Ready to head out?” Valeria nodded in response and walked with him back down to the common room. Their routine of staying up together until she fell asleep had been adjusted, what with having the place to themselves most of the time. Somewhere in the past few days, the routine had morphed into almost exclusively snogging sessions. She and Draco never acknowledged it, at least not verbally, and neither seemed at all bothered by the development, but on Christmas Eve Draco was beginning to feel some semblance of guilt. 

She, in this quiet place in such an unquiet time, had become a small sanctuary when he felt the world crashing in on him. He was deeply troubled by it and by her. He had seen her glancing at his arm, watching him out of the corner of her eye these past few days. She knew more than he ever intended, and it was his fault, yet she just brought herself closer to him. This was all he ever wanted; a purpose, a chance to make everyone proud, finally on the doorstep of glory. Last year, all he wanted were moments like this; to be alone with her on the sofa and have her all too himself. And he got it, all of it, in the worst way. 

All she did now was _give_. She gave him food, her worried looks, her time and energy to save his grades. She gave and gave again. And he took it all without hardly a hesitation, like a greedy beggar, fearing deeply that while she clung to him now, she would turn her back the second she realized the entire truth. And now, these past few frosty nights, she gave her body over to him. Her hands in his hair. Still innocent, but deeper than they had been before. And, selfishly, he was taking it. Her skin, so visibly soft. Her face, round and dark featured, trying to maintain a content expression by day, but her eyes angry and exhausted betraying her. 

It was wrong, he knew that much. His feelings were bubbling to the surface again, _“shove them down,”_ his aunt’s voice rang in his head. Shut it down. The guilt was almost as weighty as everything else, but he couldn’t stop himself. He was selfish, lonely, spiteful, needy, a liar and a pathetic coward. He was also, in spite of everything, a young man with feelings his father had warned him of in a horrendously awkward conversation a few years back. He needed this and so he kissed her, without any of the gentle tenderness of a few nights prior. Without the trembling bashfulness of two years ago that had rendered him tentative and gentle. 

His greed, his desperation for distraction and affection in the face of it all, overcame any sensitivity that he had packed down deep down, pressurized and volatile. _“More”_ was the only word that occurred to him. He wanted more. Hungry, craving control, desire distressed and yearning. But he couldn’t bring himself to go further, not when they came up for air and he looked into her dark eyes. He saw himself reflected. Loneliness and anger, the frantic clinging that one feels upon realizing everything is about to be lost. Empty, but still so very vulnerable. She shied from his touch when he brushed her hair out of her eyes, as if she didn't want to be fully seen.

Everything he had wanted just one year ago, the triumph of having, in his eyes, the most beautiful girl under him in the youthful arrogance that he had fashioned into his outward identity, was gone. He respected her too much. She was too familiar. She smiled with an innocent softness, so rare, so precious to him now. 

“Are you alright?” she asked and it gutted him to hear. Even in this moment when he wanted to, when he believed she would have permitted and enjoyed it, when he was selfishly lusting for her in some misplaced need for love, she asked him about _his_ wants and needs. He felt so cruel. 

“Not now, Valeria,” he said. She nodded and sat up as he climbed off of her and his body parting from hers almost made him regret it, like the sad moral triumph of relinquishing an unfairly won prize. She remained beside him. He had stopped himself from taking and he could only give what he would tomorrow morning. And he would, eventually, tear his soul apart for her. Four for one. Four lives saved at the cost of one. The numbers were on his side, but numbers don’t make moral judgments. If that’s what it meant, to give the sanctity of his soul for her life, then he would. His last and greatest gift that to her that he feared she would never forgive. 

Valeria awoke uncharacteristically early the next morning and went downstairs to the dark elegance of the common room. There were only a few presents under the tree as Valeria entered, finding Draco sitting on the sofa, staring blankly at the _Daily Prophet_. He was strange last night, but she knew better than to pry. As long as she kept him close enough to keep an eye on him, she could make do. 

“Happy Christmas,” she said. He looked up, unsurprised by her arrival.

“Happy Christmas,” he replied.

“Odd, isn’t it? It’s been a while since I stayed for Christmas,” she said.

He set the paper aside. “Yeah, me too. The quiet refreshing though. I can hear myself think for once.”

She smiled. “Open your gifts yet?”

“Yes. Must remember to send out my thank you’s today,” he said.

“Well, if you don’t mind…” she said, going to sit by the tree sorting through the gifts to find anything with her name. There were the gifts from her girlfriends; a scarf, a hat that was charmed not to blow off in high wind, and other silly things that made her laugh. She didn’t expect much else, but saw a rather large package bearing her name, _“To Valeria Winters. From Mrs. N Malfoy,”_ the tag read.

“It’s from your mum,” Valeria said.

“Better open it then. She’ll be expecting a thank you card,” Draco said. Valeria tore open the package to find one of the most lovely sets of winter dress robes she had ever seen. The note inside read, _“Happy Christmas, Valeria. May these be to your liking. With care, Narcissa Malfoy.”_

“Dress robes? How did she know?” Valeria asked.

“She asked what you wanted and I told her you were in need of some, so she rush-ordered those. Feel free to have them adjusted though, if you need,” Draco said.

“Well, that was unnecessary, but very thoughtful. I’ll be sure to thank her,” Valeria said, carefully setting it aside and reaching for the gift wrapped in dark blue. She handed it to him, adjusting her long black night-robe as she moved.

“You didn’t have to,” he said, taking it.

“I wanted to,” she said with a shrug. She sat by the tree, organizing the small mess she made as he unwrapped it.

“ _A History of Magical Ethics: A Reader_ ,” he said, reading the title on the book’s cover.

“It’s an interesting read. A little philosophy might do you good,” she said with a bit of sass. He laughed a little.

“Thank you,” he said. He sounded genuine, and she looked to see him tracing his fingers on the embossed cover. She reached for another small bag under the tree and handed it to him.

“There’s one more,” she said. He opened it and found a large vial. “It’s a sleeping draught, should help you rest. Only use one drop at a time though, it can be dangerous if you overdo it. I didn’t make it as I didn’t know if I could find another abandoned cauldron in the Room of Requirement.”

“Thank you,” he repeated. She hoped he’d put it to good use and maybe not look so sickly. “I have something for you too, it’s the small box over on the right.” She was surprised but dug around until she picked up a small, flat black box covered in soft velvet and tied with a white ribbon. It looked expensive, which took her aback. She carefully untied the ribbon and opened the box to find, wrapped in a delicate cloth, a shining silver coiled bracelet, shaped like a snake with stones for eyes. She looked sharply to him.

“Draco, I-”

“Bring it here,” he interrupted. She humored him and sat beside him on the leather sofa. With soft hands, he took it from her and gently put her right hand through it until it was settled on her wrist. The metal snake gently tightened itself on her wrist until it rested in a comfortable position.

“It’s enchanted,” she observed.

He nodded. “It’ll ease the effects of most spells. You won’t be disarmed as easily, for example. It won’t stop the nasty stuff, but it can help some. It’ll also tremor if some kind of magical danger is near.”

“This must have cost you a fortune. I’ve never even heard of this kind of magic,” she said, admiring it. He shook his head.

“No matter.”

“I can’t accept this. It’s too much. I only got you a book for god’s sake,” she said.

He shook his head again. “I don’t care. I only want you to promise me that until this is all over, that you won’t take it off.”

She laughed and gave him a suspicious look. “Never?”

His expression was severe. “Never. Not to sleep, not to wash, not for anything. For now. I just need you to promise.”

“What’s—”

“No questions, just this once, Valeria. Just do as I ask, for me. Please.”

She looked down at the bracelet and he cradled her wrist in his hands so gently. The longer she felt it on her, the more assured she became. It was a small comfort, she felt so vulnerable at the same time, but the faint glimmer of hope revealed itself to her in the moment and she nodded. She leaned over and kissed him

“I promise,” she said. He waited a moment before speaking again. 

“I think I saw another gift for you around the back,” he nodded towards the tree. Curious she went and reached to retrieve a small package, feeling very much like the book she had given Draco. Her name was scrawled in elegant handwriting she’d recognize anywhere.

“Mother…” she thought aloud as she tore the wrapping apart, met first with an old copy of _Witch Weekly_ from the summer before her fourth year, easily identified by her and her mother’s smiling faces on the cover. Draco leaned over to look at it as she stared on in shock.

_“The Mother Daughter Edition, featuring an exclusive with Odessa Winters and her daughter Valeria,”_ Draco read aloud. “Good Lord, I remember that. Didn't come out right before the World Cup? God, this was all anyone could talk about. This is the one where they made you interview too, yeah?” Valeria ignored him and flipped through to the cover story, the interview she hated doing at the time and rolled her eyes remembering. 

_Longtime contributor and friend to this magazine, Odessa Winters, returns to our pages this issue with a very special guest: her own daughter! Valeria Winters, pictured above, is fifteen and as dignified in person as she is in photographs. Her shoulders never slump and she greets us with a smile, refined yet approachable. Not a hair is out of place and not a thread on her robe is wrinkled. When I ask her how she managed to keep on top of all the latest trends and never have a bad hair day, she laughs and says “My mother always taught me to never leave your room without looking your best. It makes you feel good as well as those around you.” She certainly has an excellent teacher in her mother, who in previous issues has let us in to how she keeps her home and her looks._

_But there is a brain behind all that beauty. Valeria, in Slytherin House, is about to begin her fourth at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry with her favorite subjects being Potions and History of Magic. “I enjoy the hard questions. Where did magic come from? What is the source? What are the most ethical ways of practice? That’s the heart of what it means to be a witch or wizard, I believe.” So young and so wise! Her mother beams with pride. “We are all extraordinarily proud of the interests she has taken to in her studies. We expect great things from her.” But surely she has time for young love between her studies. Valeria laughs ever so charmingly and keeps us guessing with, “Not at present.” Whatever young man triumphs in winning her affections in the future will be quite lucky, indeed!_

_Valeria was kind enough to show me her daily beauty routine, so all you young ladies, take note!_

 

“What rubbish,” Draco said. “You actually told them your favorite subject was History of Magic?”

“It was at the time,” Valeria said, poring over the page. “Why did my mother send me this?”

He shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine. Looks like there’s a book under it.” Valeria lifted the magazine to find an older, well used book with a faded cover bearing the title, _The Mystery and Majesty of the Dark Arts_. 

“And this?! Why this?! I can’t be seen to have this, not now when everyone is so suspicious already!” Valeria exclaimed.

“It’s just a book. The words can’t hurt anyone. It looks up your alley anyway,” Draco said, trying to calm her. Carefully, she opened the cover and on the inside of it read _“Property of Konstantin Winters.”_ That must have been the reason; to give her something else of her brother’s that wasn’t a broom. Neatly tucked in the cover was a final item, a small photograph that Valeria held in her trembling hand. 

Pictured was her family, nearly a year ago to do the day. Her father and mother proudly sitting in plush, stately chairs with gently placed hands. Behind her father stood Konstantin, tall and sophisticated with the kindest eyes she had ever seen. Finally, behind her mother she saw herself as she was just one year ago, elegant and smirking. Above the family on the high stone wall was the giant crest of her family that had been there as far back as perhaps the castle itself; a large _W_ in the center of the emblem.

“There’s something on the back,” Draco observed, prompting Valeria to turn it over. “ _Quocumque Modo_ ,” he read. “Your motto.”

Valeria nodded, swallowing nervously, “By any means necessary.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for making it this far!


	13. The Future

_"Where could go from here?" she asked._

_"Your guess is as good as mine."_

_*****_

 

The new year had arrived without much pomp and circumstance, which also meant that arrival of students back to Hogwarts was fast approaching, dismaying Valeria who was enjoying being one of the few students who remained behind for the holidays. She occupied her time by finishing up her potions work in the Room of Requirement, dumping out the majority of the poison, but at the last minute deciding to keep a vial for herself. She didn’t have a good reason to do so other than that she hated to see her toil go to waste. She was proud of the accomplishment and instead of doing the required mental gymnastics to tell herself a lie, she was honest; she wanted a trophy.

With that done, she had little else to set her mind to. Keeping herself busy became less of a means of avoiding boredom and increasingly more of a survival instinct. She would make herself sick with worry and fear if she did not otherwise exhaust herself with _something_ to do. In the lull after completing the poison, she found her thoughts wandering to darker reaches than she ever before fathomed. Draco’s Dark Mark began to fully settle into her psyche along with its consequences and implications for the future. She feared for him and for herself.

She saw what happened to her father and brother. She knew all too well what that mark meant short of being branded with it herself. It carried a great finality. For him, there was no turning back. Given how woven she was into the circumstances and into him, she shuddered to think there may be no recourse for her either. It pained her that she could not ask him any questions, for both their sanities, but the urge to so burned on fueled by the uncertainty of the near future. She had never cared for politics, in truth she never had to. The wars that happened before her and before she could make memories never pertained to her, but she now despised how wrong she had been. Truthfully, she still struggled to care for the grander picture; what the inevitable conflict would mean for the future of the world. It was all too big. She just wanted to keep her promise and get through the days. Some would likely say that she chose a side already, by allying herself with Draco. Maybe that was true, but that hardly mattered.

She leafed through the book her mother had sent her, Konstantin’s guide for the Dark Arts, and the more she let herself read, the more interested she became.

 _“The Dark Arts, while commonly shunned for their potential to do a great deal of harm, promise but one simple thing: Power, even to the powerless,”_ the anonymous author had written in the introduction. It was seductive reasoning, a rationale that at the very least piqued curiosity, so she continued to read and was with each turned page shocked to encounter magic she had never dreamed of learning. Of course, present in the pages was a capacity for cruelty, sometimes outright grotesque in nature, but also penned within were possibilities that were neither benevolent or malevolent. The magic, spells and potions primarily, therein were primarily means to ends. That was a logic Valeria could be persuaded by. 

She spent much of the break devouring the book’s contents and even took to practicing some in the forgotten corners of the Room of Requirement while Draco toiled far away, relative to the room’s size. She hadn’t taken the time to tell him about her activities, and doubted he would care given his tireless preoccupation, as she was so single minded that the idea never fully dawned on her.

Such determined iron will was required for this kind of practice, as the author had heavily emphasized in the introduction. Indeed, it was frustrating work with her lack of experience in this magic and her near constant exhaustion as a result of her anxiety riddled insomnia.

 _“Metus Caligoria”_ , she thought as she waved her wand according to the outlined motions. The spell was supposed to conjure a thick mist that would disorient, confuse, and incite fear in those caught within it, but Valeria only managed to create a small cloud that hung in the air for a few minutes before dissipating. She drilled it, over and over, becoming discouraged and moving on to others. The strength of her work was sometimes impossible to determine, given that many spells were meant to be cast at a human target. _Obfocia_ was also called the Strangulation Curse, and claimed to constrict the target’s airways to the point of death, if desired. _Mendacio_ would cause the target to briefly believe any lie the caster was to tell them.

Still, others were fascinating to try. _Umbraobscurus_ would summon shadows that were meant to disorient the enemy and shroud the caster in a confusing darkness. _Homavidere_ would reveal with faint light where someone was hiding. She practiced these as well, and while they were weak on her first attempts, she felt better after having done so. She felt as if she was regaining some control and likened it in her mind to a dark, solitary version of the DA last year. Most of the potions were frightful and violent, some too difficult to even attempt, but the one that most caught her attention was the Tranquila Sensus potion which would, according to the author, _“…make the drinker feel emotions less strongly for extended periods of time, dependent on the craftsmanship of the brew itself. It will generate a feeling of numbness to most everyday feelings. In short, the drinker will feel apathetic towards day to day life.”_

It was exactly what she needed. 

“What are you working on now?” Draco asked from behind her, startling her with his bored tone, as she reset her little brewing area.

“Just another potion I wanted to try,” she said. 

“You do have the luxury of relaxing once in a while, you know?” he said. 

“That’s news to me.” 

He rolled his eyes. “People will be coming back tomorrow. Do you want to go for a walk?” 

“It’s late and you’ve been in here the entire break, don’t you want to sleep?” 

He shrugged. “Just want to make the most of the few hours we have left. You coming or not?” 

“Where would we even go? We can’t just wander the grounds at any hour—”

“Not the grounds. Just the Astronomy Tower.”

She eyed him quizzically. “It’s going to be windy and freezing. What the hell do you want to go there for?”

“That’s what magic is for, isn’t it? Come on,” he urged. She sighed and collected her things before following him tentatively into the corridor. They were careful not to be spotted, moving silently about the halls until they made the ascent to the top of the tower. The wind was the harshest she ever felt, billowing her robes about on the staircase and make her feel unsteady as it lashed at her face. Draco carefully lent his hand to guide her up behind him until they reached the top. He casted a simple warming charm that abated the wintry rage as he led her to the crenels around the tower’s edge. 

“It is lovely up here,” she had to confess, looking up and around at the crisp winter sky.

“Yeah. Have you ever been up here alone?” he said, looking to the ground rather than upward.

“No. Never occurred to me, I guess,” she said. “You?”

“Sometimes, when I need some air or need to think,” he said.

“And what does the great philosopher Draco Malfoy ruminate upon in the lonely night under the stars?” she said with a forced dramatization that almost broke a smile on his face.

“Shut up,” he said. “Like you’re one to talk. You’re either passed out on the sofa or you got your nose in some book like Granger.”

She laughed a little. “I, for one, try to avoid thinking too hard to be honest. Never makes me feel much better.”

“Me either,” he said, standing up a bit straighter as if he were starting to get uncomfortable. “But we do what must be done, right?” She could not tell if he was asking her or himself. 

“And what is that, Draco?”

“Valeria. We talked about questions—”

“If you would just tell me something—”

“I’ve told you too much,” he said. 

“Anything. I’ll take anything. What about the future? After this, your _task_ or whatever is over, what then?”

“It’s like I told you a hundred times. We will be _safe_. No one can or would even dare try to hurt us. We’ll have some say, some choice, some control. Our reputations restored. Isn’t that what you want?” he said, his hands on his arms and his hair blowing about in the cold air. He looked at her fiercely, as if searching her expression for confirmation or agreement. She wanted those things, especially the restoration of her good name, most of all she wanted to believe him now, but she didn’t know if she truly did.

“I’m just tired of feeling helpless,” she admitted.

“You are not helpless. You are a fantastic witch and your family is one of the oldest pureblood families in the wizarding world. Your home is one of the most secure fortresses anywhere. Just get through this year and you—we—will have it all back and more. That I can promise you,” he said sounding just as unsure of who he was really trying to convince.

“Maybe you were right. We should have run away,” she said after a moment. Standing behind her, he put his arms around her and pulled her close. 

“We never would have made it, you know that,” he said, pausing briefly. “You were right, you shouldn’t think too much.” She playfully nudged him. “I’ll tell you what though. When this is all over, we can go wherever you want for as long as you want. We’ll have gotten back at all the bastards who wronged us and will have no care in the world.” 

“Wouldn’t that be the day,” she said sarcastically.

“It will. It will be,” he said with an almost nervous swallow.

 

Classes went back into full swing far too quickly for Valeria’s liking and, as a result, her routine with Draco abruptly changed. Snog sessions occurred, though were less frequent for lack of privacy and more of her time was taken up with their schoolwork. Apparition lessons were set to begin, according to the posted notice, which was a skill Valeria was excited to learn although she anticipated an unpleasant learning curve. Meanwhile, her girlfriends gushed over their holidays and all exchanged gifts, which was a happy day. They all marveled over Draco’s gift, but Valeria neglected to share with them its true nature and tried to keep it hidden under her sleeve most of the time. She perked up on the day they were to brew antidotes in Potions as she expected to do extraordinarily given her study of Silas’s work. With great confidence and single-minded concentration, she worked diligently, actually enjoying the process quite well.

“Excellent work, Winters. You certainly are in your element! Five points to Slytherin,” Slughorn declared with pride after examining her result. She was elated, beaming as he moved through the room, and equally pleased that Potter and Weasley looked nervous. But that elation crashed all around her when Slughorn took hold of the shriveled little bezoar that Potter presented as his work. Slughorn held it high above for everyone to see. “You've got a nerve, boy! Oh, you're like your mother. Well, I can't fault you. A bezoar would certainly act as an antidote to all these potions!” 

“A fucking bezoar…?” Valeria mumbled to herself, but she was shaken from her anger when Draco hit the table in a rage of his own, spilling some of his ingredients all over himself. Potter glared over at them smugly, but the rest of the class did not seem to notice the Slytherins at all. Valeria was sure to return Potter’s stare with a glare of her own.

“He has ‘nerve’ alright,” Valeria ranted after making a hasty exit with Draco and Blaise. “It’s downright disrespectful. A bezoar! It wasn’t even a solution to the Golpalott problem! God, I miss Snape. He would have seen that little show for what it was.”

“What’s new? Potter could have taken a stinking shit into Slughorn’s hands and the man still would have put him top of the class,” Draco said.

“It can’t last forever. Potter will get what he deserves,” Valeria said, more enraged about this than nearly every other stunt Potter pulled in Potions all year. Over the course of the month as the snow melted into February, she found a new fiery urge to feel powerful again. She diligently practiced the spells in Konstantin’s book and managed to nearly perfect, to the best of her ability, the Tranquila Sensus potion thanks to the carefully lifted ingredients from her evenings taking Slughorn’s inventory. 

 

While all this was a welcome distraction from the looming darkness she had embroiled herself in with Draco, she was none too pleased that Crabbe and Goyle were a near constant presence around him. Though, it seemed he wasn’t too happy with them either. He always appeared to be scolding them about something or other when she saw them all together. Why he kept them around, especially during Apparition lessons was absolutely beyond her and she chose to be near her girlfriends for the exercises. In the first lesson, it was more worrying than aggravating. Draco couldn’t afford unwelcome attention so the little scene between him and his goons, though mundane in the grand scheme of things, was enough to cause concern.

“I tell my friends what I'm up to if I want them to keep a lookout for me,” Potter said with a smugness that would make Gilderoy Lockhart cringe. Draco turned to face Potter, in a range, but Valeria intervened first.

“Really? You tell your friends what you’re up to? I do recall an incident with _The Quibbler_ last year that complicates your claim,” Valeria said, her tone dripping with spite. Potter turned away from her as their attention was called for, but not before looking a tad ashamed and flushing a tinge pink. Draco nodded to her appreciatively, but she was growing more agitated by Crabbe and Goyle’s lookout duties as the weeks dragged on, resulting in several spats with Draco in the Room of Requirement about it. It was usually the same each time; she would argue they were stupid and not worthy of time or trust. He would challenge that their loyalty to him made them an asset, despite their stupidity. Round and round they went until they were predictably fed up with each other.

She had resolved to stop using the Room of Requirement with him for a spell as the tension was bringing her nothing but annoyance. She was disposing of the remnants of the potion, after she collected some for herself, when Draco approached.

“Spending your birthday in here? Don’t you girls always have a little gathering?” he asked. She was honestly surprised he managed to remember, given their arguments and everything else on his mind.

“We celebrated in the dorm this morning for a bit. I told them I didn’t want a fuss,” she said truthfully. Daphne’s birthday soiree was much livelier, but Valeria wanted something shorter and toned down for once. Her birthday was no happy occasion this year and she was content forgetting about it, despite the milestone of turning seventeen. She spent her time with her girlfriends lounging and being interrogated about her relationship with Draco. Overall pleasant, but regardless she would have preferred to forget the thing entirely, especially when no gifts from home arrived.

“Well, I certainly didn’t make a fuss,” he said, pulling a small box from his robes.

“You shouldn’t have,” she said taking and opening it to see a familiar sight. She laughed, really truly laughed. “You’re an asshole.”

He laughed too. “Same note in everything. You should be happy. I put absolutely no effort into it.” Sure enough, there was the note that had caused so much grief a year ago,

 

“ _To the finest girl I know, Happy Birthday._

_Love,_

_Draco”_

 

And in that little box was the elegantly simple necklace that he had presented to her last year to spite Terry Boot. The very one she threw at him and vowed never to speak to him again over. If only that girl could see her now.

“I can’t believe you held onto it,” she said.

 He shrugged. “Never know what might be useful one day. Happy birthday.” She slipped it around her neck and played with it between her fingers. “I hope he sees you wearing it around.”

“You know, I do too,” she said, unable to resist this happy little moment and kissing him in thanks, but promising not to let him off too easily. Though she wasn’t fully able to keep that promise. She backed off regarding Crabbe and Goyle and at least enjoyed the fact they were humiliated masquerading as younger girls. The cancellation of the Hogsmeade trip had set everyone in a foul mood, but only made Valeria nervous, figuring it undoubtedly had to do with the incident with the Bell girl. She was a bit disappointed to not see what her favorite stores had in stock, but was otherwise unbothered by the cancellation alone. In fact, the day after she found herself in a decent mood. She had overslept a bit, but the extra rest helped her spirits, and she made it to breakfast to sit with her friends while the food was still warm.

“Did you hear?” Daphne asked, grabbing on Valeria’s sleeve to pull her over and whisper.

“Hear what?” Valeria asked, only then noticing the quiet mumming going about the house tables. 

“Weasley, Potter’s friend. He’s in the Hospital Wing,” Daphne said. Valeria rolled her eyes. 

“Drop himself on his own head again?” she asked.

“I overheard one of the Gryffindors. He said Weasley’s been poisoned,” Daphne whispered.

Valeria’s appetite vanished and her mouth went dry at Daphne’s final word. She turned her head slowly, trying not to be too obvious, to find Draco staring down at an empty plate, unable to look up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the kudos and for sticking around!


	14. Poisoned Wine, Poisoned Words

_"And when it's over?" she asked._

_"We will have our day again," he said._

_*****_

Valeria questioned Daphne as if her own friend was the culprit, hounding for information: _When? Where? Who was there? Why?!_

Daphne’s answers gave little reassurance. All she knew was that Weasley and Potter were with Slughorn and the former was quickly saved, now in recovery. No one seemed to bothered by it except for Valeria. Overwhelmed by panic, Valeria made an excuse to run back to the dormitories to fetch a book she had forgotten. It was an inelegant exit, but haste mattered more than believability. If no one cared, than her discontent would easily be overlooked. As soon as she was out of sight of the students gathered in an around the Great Hall, she picked up her pace in rhythm with the pounding of her heart.

Clumsily, she tore through her trunk in the solitude of the sixth-year girls’ dormitory, becoming more naseuas the longer she looked. Her breath refused to settle until she finally felt the cold glass of the poison vial on her fingertips. She sat back onto the floor, cradling it in her hand, relieved that it appeared completely unused. How else could poison have gotten into the castle? Perhaps stolen from the stores? But who would want to poison Weasley? Plenty of people disliked him, but no one hated him enough to want him dead.

Perhaps she was working herself up over nothing. After all, strange things had been happening with increasing severity for years at Hogwarts, especially when it came to Potter and his followers. She put the vial back in the depths of her trunk, wrapped tight in layers of clothing, and cleaned up the disorder she made. She was coming up with excuses to deliver regarding her hasty exit from breakfast when she stepped into the common room to see Draco, pacing about the common room and running his hands through his hair. 

And her heart dropped through her body to the floor like an anchor. 

It may have been his guilty expression or anxious disposition; perhaps both in combination of the fact that he was in the common room. Whatever the case, she knew it at once; Draco had poisoned Ron Weasley.

But how? Draco wasn’t brewing any poisons and getting anything into the castle was a Herculean task. Except, she realized with horror, that supplies to make potions could get in or were already housed in the castle. They just needed a brewer to put them together and that was  _her_. 

Draco never needed to steal the vial from her trunk, not when she had left him alone with it for countless hours in the Room of Requirement before dumping it.

“Have you completely lost your mind?” Valeria asked quietly.

“I can explain,” Draco said.

“Explain what? You’ll tell me what you did, but you won’t tell me why.”

“I told you, I can’t tell you-”

“I don’t care! You said that whatever you’re doing is in part to protect me, so do please explain how the hell using _my_ poison for attempted murder protects me!” she yelled. He approached quickly, gesturing for her to keep her voice down.

“It was a backup,” he said through his teeth. “It wasn’t meant for Weasley and you were never meant to find out.”

“But poison? Poison, of all things? Poison can be traced, especially rare ones like that one. Poison can easily fall into the wrong hands. Poison is dangerous and sloppy. Poison makes me suspicious instead of you!”

“No one will suspect you,” he said.

“I’m the one who’s been studying potions with Slughorn and introduced to his potion master friends. There are only a few people in this castle who are even capable of getting their hands on poison like that and only one of them is associated with you.”

“No one was hurt, at least not beyond curing. Weasley will be fine and everyone cares more about Quidditch anyway,” Draco argued.

“Not Potter.”

Draco rolled his eyes, furious. “If anyone believed him we’d both be in Azkaban by now.”

“You know he doesn’t stop and this is just more ammunition for his suspicions. How can you not see how deep in absolute shit we are?”

“I do see it!” Draco shouted, enraged. “You think those thoughts don’t run in my head every minute of every day? You think I don’t know this? I am telling you none of that matters. What matters is getting out of this alive!”

“And what was going through your head when you stole my poison without so much as warning me?! I agreed to help you as much as I possibly could, but I never agreed to be your accomplice in this.”

“Tell me the difference then,” Draco said.

“You’re not even sorry are you?” Valeria asked, taken aback. “You don’t care…”

Draco appeared genuinely hurt, a glint of realization in his eyes, but he was stopped short of responding when the common room door creaked open. They both turned to the sound, in silent terror, Valeria herself praying it was just some third year cutting class, only to feel her guts drop at the sight of Professor Snape.

“You weren’t in class, Miss Winters,” Snape said. 

“I forgot my book.” 

“And it’s taken this long to retrieve it?”

“It was very lost, sir,” Valeria said.

“Miss Winters, report to my office immediately. You and I will have a conversation after I speak with Mr. Malfoy.”

“Just give me detention for cutting class,” she said. 

“I’d subtract points for truancy and grant detention for attempting to lie about it. To my office, now.”

She glowered at Draco before turning up her nose and storming out of the room. She used the time spent walking to Snape’s office to consider her options; Give Draco up, breaking her promise. She remembered the Dark Mark on his arm and knew that nothing he did would ever enrage her enough to effectively end his life. Admit it was all her idea, take the fall. But she had no motive other than maybe wanting vengeance on Potter and Weasley got in the way, however Snape was far to shrewd to believe that. The only other option was to lie; To deny and deny and deny until she was blue in the face.

Waiting the several minutes in the office, she deliberated and searched for any option she could grasp at. In the end, the choice was clear. Lying was the only way to save both her and Draco’s skins for now. She surrendered to her predicament by the time Snape finally came to interrogate her.

“I’m sure you’ve heard about Mr. Weasley’s condition,” Snape said, taking a seat at his desk before her.

“Yes, truly terrible. World’s gone mad,” she replied.

“It seems Weasley was not the intended target for the poisoning, but rather it was disguised and meant for another,” he said. Valeria perked up a little, hoping that maybe Snape still trusted her enough to reveal something that Draco wouldn’t.

“Who?” she asked, playing up her feigned bewilderment as much as she could muster.

“The matter is still under investigation. Equally pressing is how the poisoned substance managed to be smuggled into the school.”

“I fail to see what that has to do with me,” she said, disappointed. Snape reached into a desk drawer and pulled out _A Guide to Modern Poisons and their Antidotes_ by Silas Barakov.

“our analysis is incomplete, but Professor Slughorn and I managed to save enough of the poison to determine that it is likely a substance described in great detail by Barakov in this very book. Given how rare this poison and some of its ingredients are, ordering it from a master would immediately raise suspicion. Since no such paper trail exists, it was likely, by my estimation, brewed within these walls, but neither Slughorn or I could think of an individual that would have enough required skill and access to supplies to accomplish such a feat,” Snape explained.  

Valeria was dumbstruck, her mouth tightly shut and palms sweating. She was far too kind to Draco earlier. Snape had already figured her out and both of them knew it.

“You have yet to inform me as to how this has to do with me,” she said.

“Barakov gave you a copy of this book just as he had to both Slughorn and myself, correct?” he asked. Valeria nodded.

“Do tell me, Miss Winters, how that can be explained.”

“It’s a book that I own that I don’t keep on my person nor under lock and key at all hours. A book that I could have shared with a great deal of people, that many people could have borrowed or otherwise had access to. Perhaps ask Potter himself. I heard he was there when it happened and has quickly become so adept at potions that neither I nor Granger can seem to surpass him,” Valeria said.

“You and I both know that Potter’s sudden affinity for his most dismal subject has more to do with his teacher than his proficiency,” Snape said.

“Sir, I must ask, are you accusing me?” she asked.

Snape looked her directly in the eye for a moment, something resembling sympathy marking his expression. “No. But I am warning you,” he replied. Valeria raised her brow. “Miss Winters, no one doubts how difficult this year has been for you. However, missing classes, sarcastic comments, and being caught at late hours with Malfoy do not help matters.”

“I’ve missed classes due to my workload. I make comments because this place is more intolerable by the day, and being out in the halls with Malfoy might just be because I am his girlfriend and such things have been known to happen,” Valeria said, angry and slipping.

“All plausible, some would say most probable. You are extremely fortunate that your reputation has remained intact and in such high regard, otherwise this conversation would be very different,” Snape said.

Valeria smirked. “My father always said one’s reputation was one’s currency.”

“My warning to you,” Snape began, not acknowledging her statement. “Is that you must proceed with the utmost caution and you should know that you have more allies than you think you have, if only you look in the right places.”

Valeria considered his words for a moment. “Is that all, Professor?”

“For now,” he said darkly. Valeria thanked him with nauseatingly sweet cordiality and excused herself. She turned the corner and darted for the girls’ bathroom once she was out of anyone’s sight. She made it to the toilet before losing what little breakfast she had. There, her head in the toilet bowl swirling with noxious fumes, pathetic alone and an accidental attempted murderer, she could hold nothing back anymore and she began to sob. Kneeling at first, cleaning up after herself and then sitting on the toilet she wept, digging her fingers into her skull and shaking.

“Oh, you’re not him,” a voice called. Startled, Valeria looked up to see the ghost of Moaning Myrtle hovering above her.

“Were you expecting someone else?” Valeria snapped.

“As a matter of fact, I was,” Myrtle huffed. “Except he’s nice to me when I talk to him, unlike most!”

“Go away!” Valeria commanded.

“You’re quite rude for someone crying alone in a bathroom,” Myrtle said.

“Like you’re one to talk,” Valeria replied, drawing Myrtle ire, who cried out like a child throwing a tantrum.

“When _he_ cries, he doesn’t pretend he’s better than anyone else! He’s sensitive and frightened and knows what it’s like when people are mean to you! There’s a _girl_ , a girl who’s always on him about something or another. I told him to get rid of her, but he won’t! Says he lov-”

“I don’t care!” Valeria shouted, rising and marching out of the stall, tapping her wand on her hair and skin to at least appear presentable. The last thing she needed was school gossip from the most annoying ghost she had ever met. Unfortunately, her exit was poorly timed, as a class had ended and students were making their way to their next all through the corridors. Surprisingly, no one paid her much mind, blissfully unaware of any dark secrets taking shape right under their noses. She was about to turn the corner to the dungeons when she was interrupted, yet again, at the sound of her name. Turning, it was of course Potter tromping over to her more determined than ever.

“What can I do for you, Potter?” Valeria said.

“I know you know,” he said.

“And what could that possibly be this time?” she laughed.

“Malfoy poisoned Ron,” he said. Valeria laughed again.

“Well then, I must give him a talking-to as he seems to have done a rather poor job at it,” she spat. Potter was visibly shocked at what she said, and she had to admit that she was too.

“I don’t think Malfoy acted alone,” he said, trying to ignore her comment.

“Then you should be making a report to the Ministry, not me.”

“You know what I’m saying.”

“Honestly, I don’t know how anyone can follow your wild theories. I’d be careful if I were you, Potter. Wouldn’t want everyone to think you’ve gone crazy again, would you? Remember last year?” Valeria said. Potter was quickly losing his patience.

“You’re going to answer for this. Both of you,” he threatened and Valeria stepped toward him.

“It seems you’re the one who needs to be careful. These things seem to follow you wherever you go. Tread with caution before you get someone’s father and brother, or even your own godfather, murdered again,” she said. “Do what you will. I have very little else to lose and I’m running out of patience.”

Valeria turned on her heels and left him where he stood, letting herself get lost in the sea of students strolling on their merry ways. She made her way back to the dungeon, back to her dormitory, the one place that she could be alone and safe if only for a little while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no excuse for being so late. I am still dedicated to this story, so there will continue to be updates, albeit sporadic. I've noticed several embarrassing typos in previous chapters so I will be trying to edit those out as well. There may be some in this one, as I typed this out from the outline rather quickly. My apologies for that and sorry this is so short; I'm trying to keep with the timeline and there wasn't a super clean place for chapter breaks. As always, thanks for sticking around and thank you to those who've left comments and kudos. I read them all and appreciate the love!


	15. Friend in Need

_"Is there anyone left?" he asked._

_"Not a soul," she replied._

_*****_

 

“So we’re agreed?” Valeria asked.

“Agreed,” Draco sighed out, exacerbated. It had been a long talk that had taken up most of the evening in the Room of Requirement, which Valeria emphasized would be her last time in that awful room. She would still help him with his homework, cover for him when needed, bring him food and only enter the Room of Requirement to brew Polyjuice Potion if he needed. Valeria doubted he would need that last service as even with how often he demanded Crabbe and Goyle disguise themselves, the previous batch would last them ages.

“And the late nights, how am I supposed to know when you need me?” she asked. He reached into his pocket and handed her a small coin, one that she knew incredibly well.

“It’s enchanted, like those Dumbledore’s Army assholes used last year. I’ll tell you when you need to leave the dungeon and meet me,” he explained. The scheme was simple; Valeria would sneak up to the seventh floor when Draco was ready to head down to bed and if they were caught, pretend they were up for a late-night romantic rendezvous. Avoiding being found out was the goal, but teenage romance was a much more palatable excuse than having to come up with something else. “You alright?”

He had noticed that she was preoccupied with the coin. How could she have forgotten? It all was so distant now; The lie of another girl at a different school several worlds away. She had never told him about her involvement in the DA or the truth about subsequent events. Now was not the time, though. They were on treacherous enough ground as it was.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Clever idea,” she said. He decided to spend the night in the room, insisting that he needed to work and she made the long dark walk to the dungeons alone, rehashing the conversation in her head. There was hardly a fight, both of them too anxious and exhausted to bother. Against her nature, she decided to forgive what he had done, though she was sure to let him know she would never forget. If there was no turning back before, there certainly wasn’t now and whether she liked it or not, she was all in. Really, letting it go, for the moment, was a pragmatic choice. Neither of them could simply afford to lose each other and they resolved that they were stronger together; whatever together meant.

He was rather relieved that Snape seemed to be squashing suspicion, and to Valeria’s annoyance, he did not care for Potter’s watchful eye on their movements. To her, he was letting his cocky sense of superiority over Potter cloud his judgement, which was nothing new. It just meant that keeping Potter off their scent would fall to her.

 

 

“What about Winters? Is she helping Malfoy? Does she go into the Room too?” Harry asked the house elves anxiously.

“Mistress Winters possesses the grace and poise that only one of her perfect bloodline could have. Her elegance is truly worthy of her noble name—” Kreacher said.

“Good Lord…” Ron sighed.

“But what does she _do_?” Harry insisted.

“The same as the Malfoy boy, sir,” Dobby began. “She takes extra food at dinner, Dobby has seen and spends a great deal alone in the library, but that is all.”

“Oh, I doubt that…” Harry trailed off.

 

 

The new routine was doing Valeria some good, she discovered, though she was without a place to practice the darker spells in Konstantin’s old book. There were pros and cons to everything and she would have to make do until the year was through and she and Draco could be free of all this. She was managing to keep on both her and Draco’s homework, becoming more adept at plagiarism by the day, and she even managed to do better than she had expected in the extra Apparition lessons.

But as the sixteenth of April arrived, her ability to concentrate left her and all she could carry in her thoughts were memories of her brother. She sat in the common room, up late as usual, looking over a picture of her handsome smiling brother from just that past Christmas. The Winters family didn’t have the kind of pictures she had seen other families have, at least none that she knew of. The ones of her family were so still and stiff, bordering on corpselike, and Konstantin was no different. She could hardly recognize him. She knew him as the young man she was jealous of, her parents’ pride and joy, the eldest son, the heir, the charmer, the one all her friends had crushes on. The one who, according to that Tonks woman, fell in love with a muggleborn and chose family above everything.

Even at his most annoying, he was impossible to stay angry with for long, she remembered.

 

 _“Can’t I just stay at Daphne’s? I don’t even like Quidditch,” Valeria said._

_“You have fun every year,” Konstantin said._

_“It’s not just about game, Valeria. All the higher wizarding world ups in the wizarding attend the World Cup, and this year is particularly important,” Hieronymus said._

_“We’re only going for Konstantin!” Valeria protested._

_“It’s important that we make these appearences as a family, one unit. Someday you’re going to have to follow in similar footsteps and you might as well get a head start,” Her father said._

_“Your friends will be there; the Malfoys and the—” Odessa said._

_“The Malfoys visited a month ago!” Valeria said._

_“Do not interrupt your mother, Valeria,” Hieronymus said. “Go pack the rest of your things and I’ll hear no more of this.” Valeria bit her tongue and walked away, marching back up to her room with insolent adolescent fury, and packed the rest of her things away with a huff. When she was nearly finished, a gentle knock rapped on her door._

_“What?” Valeria called. Konstantin entered slowly, a magnetically friendly smile on his face, and approached as Valeria closed her last bag._

_“I’m sorry you’re being dragged along. If it makes you feel better, I’d rather go without mother and father hovering over me every moment. Then I could actually enjoy then,” He said._

_“Then why do you ask us all to come every year?” Valeria asked, exacerbated. Konstantin’s smile faded and his lips tensed._

_“Sometimes what must be done gets in the way of what you want to do. This is going to be an especially odd World Cup, I suspect, so I got you something,” he said. He pulled out a small velvet bag and handed it to her. Opening it, she found two small squishy plugs and raised an eyebrow at him. He laughed._

_“They go in your ears. They’re supposed to drown out all the noise and instead you’ll hear the sounds of the sea and then you won’t have to hear whatever mother and father are droning on about. At least, that what the salesman at the joke shop told me,” Konstantin said. Valeria snorted._

_“You? In a joke shop?” Valeria laughed._

_“I’m full of surprises, stinker,” Konstantin said, putting his arm around her and shaking her playfully._

Those little ear-stoppers, she realized now, were not meant for her parents’ chatter, but rather to allow her to tune out the sounds of the Death Eaters decimating the World Cup, in which, she knew, Konstantin participated.

A few days later, Valeria was well settled into her new routine. Draco was more and more absent from class, which meant she had more and more of his homework to do. The difficulty of the courses, delivering Draco food, covering for him, on top of trying to maintain some semblance of peace was wearing her down to nearly dust. She had taken to finding old rooms and less frequented parts of the castle to read to practice dark spells, the only activity she looked forward to as of late.

Entering the common room just in time for curfew one evening Valeria was met with the heart-dropping sound of sudden silence. Vibrant laughter and chatter that filled the room seconds earlier, evaporated as soon as her presence was known. Next came the glares and the awkward stares, even some eyes eager for the upcoming drama. All came from the group of her peers, mostly sixth years, but some seventh too, in the center of the room. From them emerged Daphne, stepping forward with her arms crossed and bearing the meanest expression that she wore so well, though Valeria had never been on the receiving end of it.  

Glancing around, Valeria began to realize. Boxes and wrapping paper were on the table and around the floor. A partially eaten cake sat on the table. Valeria remembered the date. The goddamn date. 

“Daphne I’m sorry,” she said genuinely. 

“Did you forget?” Daphne said with only barely contained anger. 

“No, I just lost track of time in the library,” Valeria said. 

Daphne laughed, nearly cackled. “Really? That’s odd because Nott went to fetch you when you didn’t show and said you weren’t there. Was he lying?” Valeria’s face was getting hot trying to maintain composure out of shame and embarrassment. 

“Can we talk about this alone?”

“Not until you tell us all the truth. Did you forget?”

“I didn’t know there’d be a party...”

“I told you on Thursday. I said, ‘We’re having a party at eight on Saturday for my birthday and I want you to come,’ considering you’re supposed to be my friend!”

“I’m here now.”

“Don’t be pathetic! I’ve been putting up with you all year. All of us have. We’ve given you space, put up with your sneaking around, skipping class and whatever you and Malfoy are up to. I’ve made excuses and stood up for you even while you’re lying and being secretive and doing Malfoys homework for him.” She said, pausing to read Valeria. “Oh, you think I didn’t know that? Everyone knows and you’re only getting away with it because you’re of Snape’s favorites! And all I wanted was a couple hours of your time at my fucking birthday party!”

Valeria swallowed, disturbed by Daphne’s words, namely how similar they had been to the ones she repeatedly said to Draco. 

“You _don’t_ understand—”

“I don’t? I’m going through things too, y’know, a bunch of us are. You think we’re not scared? That we don’t get just as many dirty looks from the others houses like you? That you’re the only victim in all of this? You would because you always have,” Daphne said, seething.

“That’s not what I meant.” 

“I don’t even know you anymore. You won’t talk to anyone but Malfoy, of all people. Do you even know what’s going on with _me_? With _my_ family? What classes _I_ could have used your help with or who I’ve gone on a date with or _anything_?”

Valeria had no response because Daphne was right. The truth was she didn’t know anything about her best friend’s life anymore.

“Of course you don’t because you think you’re special. Valeria Winters with her perfect life and perfect family, who’s in magazines, and is so smart and friends with everyone. Never a hair out of place and not even one pimple or imperfection,” Daphne said with searing sarcasm. “They call you Dollface as an insult, you know. How’d your perfect life turn out, Valeria? You can’t even remember your best friend’s birthday!”

“Daphne, stop,” Tracey interjected. 

“We’re all thinking it aren’t we? She needs to know!”

Valeria broke. Again. 

“Do _you_ see your sister’s corpse every time you close your eyes? Does _your_ mother ignore your letters? Do _you_ not have a home, a real one? Do _you_ get to sleep through the night without nightmares? You haven’t the faintest idea in your vapid, superficial, head of how to even comprehend what I have to deal with every day. So, I’m sorry that your little birthday party slipped my mind, I am. But you don’t get to make this your pedestal to tell me what’s wrong with me because, believe you me, I already fucking know!”

Daphne was quiet for a moment, milling her words, until she made her choice. 

“And I might have been sympathetic, if you bothered to tell me any of that months ago.” 

“Fuck you,” Valeria spat and turned to head for the empty girls’ dormitory. She pulled the curtains on her bed closed and hid for hours. The girls came upstairs and slowly went to sleep after their enjoyable evening, save for the argument. Valeria tried to sleep but her anger and sadness kept her wide awake. She retreated downstairs, to her usual spot still on the couch, the fight with Daphne playing over and over in her mind.

 

_“I hate plants,” Valeria complained. “I’d be completely happy if this shrivelfig died if it didn’t mean I’d fail the assignment.”_

_“These things are impossible to kill, you’ll be fine,” Daphne reassured, as they both examined their respective plants. The third years had been assigned to raise the plants to maturity, a thankless task that Valeria despised._

_“And then we have to hand them over to Snape. He already has them for ingredients, I heard the sixth years talking about using them in class. Why does he need more?” Valeria said._

_“I read that whining kills shrivelfigs faster,” Daphne said._

_“Very funny. How are you so good at this?” Valeria asked, looking at Daphne’s vibrant and thriving plant whereas Valeria’s, though alive, was an ugly, dull mess._

_“Just takes a little patience, attention to detail too. You’ll get it. As long as my shrivelfigs are better than Nott’s, I’ll be happy,” Daphne reassured._

_“Pfft, he’s not worth it. He’s a total weirdo anyway,” Valeria said._

_“He’s smart…and mysterious.”_

_“Which makes him weird. You can do better than Nott and if he can’t see how great you are enough to go to Hogsmeade with you, then he’s definitely not smart enough for you.”_

_“Think so?”_

_“I know so. We’ll have fun in Hogsmeade, you and I can just go together. No Nott or any other boys and definitely no Parkinson,” Valeria said._

_“Yeah, I’d like that.”_

It was a silly memory, back when rejection by a fleeting crush was earthshattering. That day in Hogsmeade was amazing. They had a snowball fight and wandered into the castle cold and soaking wet, but for once, Valeria couldn’t care. She was half-dozing, reminiscing and mourning what, by all appearance, was the end of an era of friendship.

“Valeria,” the familiar voice spoke low. She opened her eyes to see Draco standing over her before the sofa. She was relieved to see him. It was becoming clearer by the hour that he was truly the only one she could put any faith in, despite her reservations.

“Sleeping in your bed for once?” Valeria asked.

“Needed the change. It’s a bit…lonely in there,” Draco said. Valeria understood. She had been lonely too, she almost missed the Room of Requirement.

“You didn’t ask me to walk you back down here tonight,” Valeria observed.

“I figured you’d be busy with Daphne’s birthday and stuff. Wanted to give you a break,” he said.

“You remembered her birthday?” Valeria asked, her heart dropping.

“She’s been gabbing about it all week,” Draco said. Valeria sat up and put her head in her hands. She couldn’t help herself and starting to bawl. Draco, panicked that he had done something wrong, went to comfort her on the sofa. She, through tears, explained everything about how she had forgotten about the birthday, the party, and the friendship ending argument that was going to be talk of Slytherin house tomorrow morning.

And Draco held her softly, trying to fight his exhaustion to deliver the usual platitudes of assurance; _She’ll get over it, You’ll be friends again by next week, You’ve been friends long enough and so you’ll work it out._ He didn’t know if it meant anything to her, but he knew she was falling apart again and there was less and less he could do to save either of them with each passing day. This had to stop, but he was far too selfish and needed her too much to ever pull the proverbial trigger. He wanted nothing more than to bear her pain and relieve her of the hurt and memory of such hard-fallen calamities, if only there were any room in his heart to spare or strength to beer them

Soon, he could flee and he could take with him that pitifully broken girl that cracked his heart far away from here. He would have taken her away then and there but his arms were heavy and cold like iron.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with me and to those who've left kudos. Stay home, stay safe.


	16. Cry Murder

_"What would you do?" she asked._

_"I'd die," he said._

*****

Snogging in long forgotten classrooms with Draco had resumed. Neither could really recall when or why or how exactly it happened, but neither of them seemed to care. For her part, Valeria was far too alone and stressed negotiate terms over what they were. This was an alright day, the best in a while, as she had passed her apparition test a day prior.

“How was Potions? Did I miss anything?” she asked, pulling away from Draco.

He scoffed. “Nothing important. We had to do something ‘ _amusing.’_ A waste of my time…”

“Was Potter the golden boy again?” she asked.

“As usual. Who cares about Potter?” he asked.

“Something is fishy about him being so good at Potions all the sudden.”

“I'll ask again, who cares?”

“Never mind. I’m just worried,” she said.

“About what?” he asked close in her ear, his hands on her hips and his intentions clear.

“When is this going to be over?” she asked.

“Why are we talking?” he asked, frustrated.

“You keep saying ‘soon,’ and the end of the year is coming up and I just want to know what ‘soon’ means,” she said. He was still a moment, his head down as if the right words were written on the floor. When he picked up his head and she got a good look at him, she saw nothing but exhaustion and terrible dread. He pulled her closer, softly, and spoke low.

“You have to trust me. You just have to trust me…” he said and rested his head in the crook of her neck. She knew, in her heart that that was the best answer she was going to get. She desperately wanted to argue, she wanted to scream, but she could not afford to lose him too and neither could he. She nodded and they stayed together until dinner, parting ways afterwards to go about their business and face the rest of the week head-on.

 

Valeria was more alone than ever that week. Daphne had yet to forgive her and Tracey would flash Valeria smile before being pulled away by Daphne. Pansy especially had been enjoying the feud, if it could even be called that. Valeria did her best to avoid them, taking the long routes along her routine when she called. No one else really seemed to notice that Valeria spent most of her time alone. The castle was buzzing with rumors surrounding the return of Katie Bell and the upcoming Quidditch championship.

On her way to the library after classes one early evening, she passed the second-to-last person she wanted to see, the first being Daphne.

“Your boyfriend going to be playing anymore or has he given up?” Potter said, in a brighter and bolder mood than she had seen him as of late.

“Some people have more important things on their minds, Potter. You’d know that if you ever used yours,” she said, turning to walk away.

“I’m going to find out what he’s up to, Winters, and if you have any part in it I’m not going to protect you,” Potter said. Valeria laughed.

“Yes, because your protection is worth so much. I made the mistake of trusting you once and I’ll never do it again,” she replied.

“I just thought I’d warn you. If you’re smart you’ll try to find a way to squirm your way out of trouble once again, if you can,” he threatened.

“Never fear. I always do,” she smiled and shoved her way past him to get to the library. Later in the dreary evening, she received a message from Draco via the coin and snuck her way to the seventh floor.

“Potter seems to think he’s about to catch you doing whatever you’re doing,” she told him as they began the journey to the dungeons. Draco scoffed, as per usual.

“And I’m sure he presented you with evidence for my crimes,” he said. She laughed a little too.

“Of course not.”

“He’s just telling you that stuff to scare you. Probably trying to scare me too. He knows you’ll tell me everything he says to you,” he said and Valeria knew that he was right. She looked up at him for a moment. He was putting on a brave face, but his paling skin and sickly frame told her otherwise. He wasn’t scared of Potter necessarily, but he was scared. She snaked her arm around his and walked close with him. Once they made it to the dungeons, he pulled her gently to an alcove.

“I’m—if I can’t…I need you to run,” he said darkly.

“What are you talking about?”

“If this doesn’t work, you need to run.”

“Run to where? From what?” Valeria said, her heart beginning to race. He grabbed her by the shoulders and looked her dead in the eye.

“I can’t tell you just now. Remember what I said about trusting me? If this doesn’t work, you will need to do everything you can to go as far away as possible and becoming as invisible as you can,” he demanded.

“I don’t…You said it’ll all be fine after this year…”

“I know. This is just in case. But you have to promise me. You have to promise you will run and that you won’t look back.”

“Draco—”

“Promise!” he said losing control over the volume of his voice. He quickly composed himself as best he could. “Valeria, please.”

“Okay. Okay, I promise,” she said.

He took her face in his hands and kissed her hard and long. She gave in, despite reservations. Despite everything she felt.

The next week brought early May with it, just over a month out from the end of term and Valeria’s anxiety would not relent. She began getting aches and pains in her neck and shoulders, no doubt from being bent over desks doing schoolwork to keep her preoccupied. She nearly lost track of time, only her hunger alerting her to the clock. Dinner was approaching and she made her way to her usual seat alone, just after it had begun. Oddly, Draco, who had been keeping her company during most meals, was nowhere to be found. She leaned over the table to get the attention of Crabbe and Goyle.

“Where’s Draco?” she asked them. Crabbe pointed up and she took his meaning, thankfully not stupid enough to speak it aloud.

“He said he’d be on in a bit though,” Goyle said. She nodded and said her thanks. She ate the rest of her food quickly and started sneaking food into her bag. She left the Great Hall, which no one seemed to notice and making her way up to the seventh floor.

On the third floor, she heard the sounds of dueling, of terrible crashing and banging. She ran straight for it, against her avoidance for staying out of trouble, but her gut told her to go. Running, she realized the sounds were coming from the bathroom and she opened the door just as the most terrible shriek she ever heard rang through the air.

_“MURDER!”_

She had no control over her body, she barely even registered Potter standing before her, petrified. All she saw was blood mixing with water, dyeing the floor bright red and Draco faintly gasping, blood dripping from his body in slashes.

“Draco!” She cried out, dropping her bag on the floor with a splash, its contents spilling out, and rushing to his side. She bore her wand and cast every healing spell she could think of, but none of them worked. Whatever kind of magic this was, she didn’t know how to fix it. She dropped her wand and tried to apply pressure to his wounds, to no avail. The blood continued seeping out all over her hands, through her fingers. She reached her arm under his neck, keeping his head out of the water and turned to Potter. “What spell did you use?!” she yelled.  But Potter only mumbled something incoherent that she barely registered.

“I—I didn’t—”

“Harry, please!” She begged, desperately. “Harry, he’s going to die!” Draco grabbed at her sleeve weakly, trembling and panicked. She looked down it him, his face full of pain and his eyes full of more fear than she had ever seen in anyone. “No, you’re not going to die,” she reassured, realizing what she said. Draco clung to her and moved his lips, trying to speak and she tried so hard not to weep for futility, fearing scaring him further. She could not do this alone, not now, not without him. All their anger, his distance, her stubbornness, the dread of the world hanging over them evaporated. Keeping him alive was all the mattered, he was the only person who mattered. It was her promise. She turned back to Potter, growing angrier and desperate. “What spell is this?!”

It became clear that he wasn’t going to give up the information she needed and so she screamed as loud as she could muster. “Someone help!”

Whether it was her or Moaning Myrtle’s screams that called Professor Snape to the bathroom, she didn’t know but the hope she felt upon seeing him was invigorating. Snape rushed over to Draco’s other side.

“I came in after it happened,” she said, beginning to cry. “I—I don’t know what spell…I tried everything, but nothing worked.”

“Stand back, Miss Winters.” Reluctantly, she obeyed. Her shoes and socks were soaked through with water and blood. So too were her tights and skirt, the parts of her sleeve wear Draco grabbed for her. She watched as Snape muttered an incantation and the red of the water drifted back to its source. Immediate relief filled her, but she still trembled from fear. She was aware of Potter’s idle presence, but her gaze never broke from Draco. The latter’s breathing started to steady and some color returned to his skin.

“Miss Winters, run ahead to the Hospital Wing and tell Madam Pomfrey to get a bed ready. We may be able to stop the scarring,” Snape ordered. Reluctant to leave, she nonetheless nodded and left the bathroom, sure not to look Potter in the eye as she passed him. She ran, difficult in her soaked clothes and wet shoes. She felt the stares of her peers, but didn’t care. She shoved past people in her way and could hear the confused questions the other students asked each other when they saw her. Finally, she burst open the door of the Hospital Wing and called out from Madam Pomfrey.

“Miss Winters?” she asked, coming out from her office. “What’s happened? You look—”

“I’m fine. It’s Draco Malfoy. He was terribly injured and Professor Snape told me to have you make a bed up for him,” she said, panting. Madam Pomfrey was smart enough to not ask further question to Valeria’s relief and she waited patiently. Before long, Snape entered supporting Draco and helped him onto the bed. Valeria stood by, out of the way, as Pomfrey and Snape went about healing Draco. She didn’t pay close attention to the specifics, she just wanted to be absolutely certain he would recover.

“Go back to your dormitory and clean yourself up, Miss Winters. He will need to rest for a bit,” Snape said when they were finished and Draco was asleep.

“I won’t leave him,” she snapped indignantly.

“Miss Winters…” he scolded.

“He will be sleeping for a while. With Professor Snape’s permission, you can come back then,” Madam Pomfrey said.

“But of course,” Snape said. “And during that time perhaps you would be so kind as to ask one of your male housemates to get Draco some fresh clothes.” She knew he was right, but gave one last look to Draco who was sleeping peacefully and alive, before nodding and turning to go.

She walked fast, but didn’t run as she made her way to the dungeons. The castle was swarming with younger students, who were shocked to see her bloodstained clothes and wet shoes. She shot them nasty looks that hushed them up, at least until she was out of earshot.

“Valeria, oh my God!” Tracey said, upon seeing Valeria enter the common room. Valeria forgot about this part. The entire house would want to know what happened, rumors had already begun spreading no doubt. “What happened?” The others began to take notice and looked up at her.

“Where’s Malfoy?” Goyle asked, the only one, shockingly, to remember that the last they saw her was when she went to go find Draco.

Valeria inhaled to prepare. “Potter attacked him in a bathroom.” Their surprise was not alleviated.

“How?” Blaise asked.

“I don’t know, some spell. I must have come in right after it happened. Snape was nearby and stopped the bleeding. Draco’s in hospital now,” Valeria explained.

“Bleeding?” Pansy asked.

“Potter nearly killed him. He would have died if Snape hadn’t been nearby,” she said, seething.

More questions followed. _How long was Draco going to be down for? What spell do you think it was? Why were they fighting like that in the first place? We thought you two were off in a broom closet or something. What should we do in retaliation?_ Valeria couldn’t take it.

“I just want to clean up,” she said exhausted. She turned to the boys. “One of you find some fresh clothes for Draco and bring them to me.” She hadn’t meant to bark the order, but they dutifully obeyed. She went up to her own dorm and cleaned up, not daring to look down at the shower floor as Draco’s blood swirled down the drain. She put on fresh clothes, tossing the others for the laundry, unable to bear looking at them a second longer. She sat at her mirror and reapplied her glamours. She looked at Draco’s gift, coiled about her wrist and began to cry. They had promised each other that they would keep each other alive and yet, when her time came to do, so nearly failed.

Her mind drifted to Harry Potter and she had never hated anyone as much as she hated him. Before, she could always find some excuse for his actions. Draco goaded him and Draco often earned what was coming to him throughout the years, that bothered her none. The Quibbler incident was more her brother’s fault than anyone else’s, no matter how much it hurt her. But after the deaths at The Ministry, she couldn’t stand him and after he nearly killed Draco, she hated him.

When she had calmed, she went back down to the common room to find her peers, huddled around a set of sofas and chairs whispering with another.

“Do you have the clothes?” she asked. Goyle nodded and handed her a pile of folded linens. She thanked him and let them know she’d be back later to report back on how Draco was doing. She made her way to the hospital wing and by this time the castle was rife with gossip. The stares were almost unbearable this time, and the bitterness that had taken root inside of her since last year was now full-grown. None of these people, most of whom she had always been cordial with, actually cared about her or her situation until she was an object of gossip.

Pomfrey took the clothes when she arrived, and set them on the table beside Draco’s bed as Valeria dragged a chair over to sit beside him. She didn’t even bother to ask permission, although Valeria would not have heeded her words anyway.

“You can wake him if you like. Just don’t keep him up too long. I’ll leave you two alone,” Madam Pomfrey said. Grateful, Valeria nodded to her and then looked back to Draco. She felt guilty for wanting to wake him, how little sleep he had gotten in the past few months forced her to realize that this time was precious for him. At the same time, and out of her own selfish desire for comfort, she needed to see him awake. She needed to hear him talk. She needed to know that he was truly alive. With a gentle hand, she shook his shoulder and whispered his name until he stirred and his eyes opened. He looked up at her and the exhaustion she saw in his eyes made her regret it.

“Hi,” he said groggily.

“Hi,” she replied. He sat up a little bit and she helped him adjust the pillow, though he protested her help.

“I’m not a child,” he said.

“Shut up,” she laughed. The smile faded after a moment and she knew what she had to do. “What the fuck was that, Draco?”

He sighed. “You saw it yourself. Potter tried to kill me.”

“What happened? Why were you both in there? You’ve fought with Potter a hundred times, and he’s never tried to kill you.”

“I was in there to clear my head for a minute and Potter just walked in.”

“What did you say to him that got him so—”

“You too? Assuming it was me? He followed me and startled me, the twat,” he said, angry. She rolled her eyes.

“I’m on your side. I just want to know what happened.”

“Yeah, well ask him. He’s the one who sought me out,” he said.

“He did?”

“That’s what it looks like isn’t it? You said yourself that he’s been after me.”

She decided to change the subject. He was nearly back to his old infuriating self, which she supposed was reassuring. “I hope he gets expelled.”

“Not good enough, if you ask me.”

“I agree,” she said.

“Anyone would be if they pulled something like that. Where did he even learn that spell?”

“I don’t remember much about it, but we definitely didn’t learn it in DADA class. Seems Perfect Potter has started dabbling in dark magic.”

“From what I’ve gathered in the halls so far, the gossip is surrounding Potter more than you. Once you’re out of here, I don’t think you’ll need to worry about unwanted attention,” she said. “If anything, people should leave you alone more.”

He nodded with a dark expression on his face. “Good.”

She took his hand. “We’ll get out of here and be done with this soon.”

“I don’t think we’ll have a choice,” he said, grabbing back. She stuck around a little longer until Draco got drowsy and Pomfrey shooed Valeria out. She began making her way back to the dungeons when a familiar voice stopped her in her tracks.

“Valeria.”

She whipped around to see Potter and Weasley and the latter’s sister standing in front of her. Anger flared up in her, and so she turned to continue on her way.

“Valeria, wait!” Potter said chasing after her. She stopped and clenched her jaw again with a heart on fire. 

“Can I explain?” he asked.

“Explain what?” she spat. 

“It was an accident—”

“It certainly didn’t look like one!”

“I didn’t know what that spell did, I am sorry.”

She furrowed her brow abs gave him a dark look and spoke low. “You didn’t even know what it did?”

“I panicked.”

“Your boyfriend was about to hit him with the Cruciatus Curse. Harry was in the right to defend himself.” Ginny said. 

“Ginny, not now,” Ronald said. Valeria never liked Ginny, but she hated her almost as much as she hated Potter in that moment.

“I don’t give a damn what he tried to do. Potter followed him in there after stalking him and egging him on all year!” She turned to Potter “Why were you even in there?”

“You know he’s up to something, I had to find out—”

“By following him into the toilets!? I told you to put an end to this nonsense for months. You have no understanding of what we’re up against!”

“So you do know something,” Potter said.

“I know that we’re done here. I know that you should be expelled and that all of us would a lot better off without you ruining our reputations, putting our families in prison, and getting them killed!”

“Valeria—”

“If you so much as go near him ever again, I will hurt you. I promise.”

“Why are you protecting him when he’s not even telling you the truth?” Potter said.

“We protect our own,” she spat and turned to go before Potter called out her name once final time. She faced him again, full of ire.

“He was crying,” Potter said quietly. 

“What?”

“When I got to the lavatory, he was at the sink crying. Sobbing.”

She turned and left without giving him a response. Draco had neglected to mention that part, and why wouldn’t he? She had seen him cry several times. She remembered their conversation, the demand that she run should he fail and her spirits dropped again. She diverted away from the dungeon and made her way to Moaning Myrtle’s most frequented bathroom.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for any senseless typos; I wanted to get this one out quickly. Stay home, stay safe.


	17. Relief

_"I'll never leave again," he promised._

_"I don't care," she said._

*****

“Myrtle? Myrtle?!” Valeria hissed, the tip of her wand lit as she shut the door of the lavatory. She waited in silence for a moment, eerie sd it was. She was about to turn back, but called out the ghost girls name one more time. 

“What do you want?” The girl said, her spectral glow coming in clearly from the light of the want. 

“I wanted to talk to you.”

“About what?” She was defensive. 

“About Draco Malfoy.”

“Who?”

Valeria rolled her eyes. “The boy! blond, almost murdered on the floor today. I was there too don’t you remember?”

“Yes, him! Oh, will he be alright? Is he dead?!”

“No, he’ll be fine. He’s recovering,” Valeria said.

“Oh, that’s a shame. I was thinking that, maybe, he’d become a ghost too…” Myrtle mused. “What do you want to talk about him for? Are you bothering him too!?”

“No. I’m his…Friend,” she said. Myrtle looked at her and scowled.

“Are you that girl?”

“What girl?”

“He talked about a girl,” Myrtle said with jealous disdain. “He kept saying that _‘they’re after her too’_ and that she’d ‘ _never forgive him._ ’ Is that you?”

“I don’t know.” She answered. It was hard to tell with Myrtle and Valeria was hesitant to take her interpretations of events as gospel.

“You better not be! She doesn’t appreciate all he’s done for her.”

“That’s not me, Myrtle. Listen, I think he’s in trouble and I want to help, but there are things he won’t tell me. Will you help me, for his sake?”

Myrtle thought a moment. “What do you want to know?”

“Why was he in the bathroom day?”

“He was upset, of course. He comes in when he’s upset to talk and I listen. He doesn’t have anyone else to talk to,” Myrtle said, which stung Valeria. “There is someone trying to get him to do things, bad things. He won’t say what or who, but it’s wearing on him. He’s sensitive.”

“Yes, I know. Does he visit you often?”

Myrtle shrugged. “Yes. He thinks he can’t do it and he’s so scared. I tried to help him, but he won’t let me. Says no one can.” Valeria was silent, hearing all this. She knew he was in trouble, but Myrtle was confirming his failure. “Does that help?”

“It does,” Valeria said.

“Will you—will you try to help him?” Myrtle asked.

“I’ll try. Thank you, Myrtle,” Valeria said, genuinely. Myrtle nodded and Valeria left the bathroom, descending down to the dungeons. Upon entering the common room, she was greeted by a litany of questions about Draco’s condition and she quenched the curiosity and worry of her peers; _Draco is fine. We talked. He’ll be released soon._

“I overheard Longbottom talking about it and apparently Potter got detention for the rest of term and is banned from playing Quidditch,” Pansy said.

“Right before the championship too. Serves the bastard right,” Blaise said.

“Not good enough, if you ask me. Azkaban would be better suited for him,” Valeria said. Her peers seemed to agree, but Valeria made her way up to her bed once the conversation turned to how much everyone hated Harry Potter; the last person she wanted to think about at present. For once, despite the day, she rested fairly peacefully, all her weariness finally catching up with her.

 

In the library, a couple days later in the late evening, bent over the desk her usual spot in a secluded corner, someone tapped her shoulder. She whipped around to see Draco standing behind her. She got of her chair and wrapped her arms around him and he pulled her close in return.

“I thought you were going to be released over the weekend,” she said.

“I convinced Pomfrey I could go early. I couldn’t wait that long anyway,” he said. He looked better. Pomfrey’s care had improved the sallow and worn look of him, but his eyes were still just as dark and terrified as ever, no matter how much he tried to hide it.

“Have you talked to the others?” she asked.

“Yeah, only just got out of there. They said I could find you here so I stopped by on my way up.”

Valeria’s relief fled. “You’re going back right away?”

“There’s no time. I couldn’t even afford the days in the Hospital Wing,” he said. He leaned in closer and whispered. She could feel his breath on her neck as he spoke. “You remember what I told you before, about if I fail?”

Valeria nodded. “Draco, you need to tell me if you need anything,” she whispered.

“I told you that you’re too involved as it is—”

“You’re right. I am too involved, which is exactly why I need to help you. After what I saw, I can’t let you do this alone anymore,” she said.

“What helps me is to know that you will listen to what I say,” he said.

“You don’t command me,” she replied indignantly. He grabbed her arms.

“I need to you, because otherwise you won’t listen,” he hissed. He must have seen that he was scaring her, as he loosened his grip and collected himself. “Please, Valeria, I’m trying to keep you alive.” She inhaled and then turned to collect her things.

“Whatever you say,” she said.

“Valer–”

“I’ll do what you want if you think it’ll help, but you’re going to have to come to me if you need help. I can’t last seeing this happen to you. I can’t,” she spat. He nodded and with that, she marched away to do the remainder of her schoolwork in the common room. The incident in the bathroom lost its steams in terms of Hogwarts gossip over the weekend. With Quidditch and the end of term fast approaching, the students were buzzing with anticipation and excitement. Gryffindor won the championship yet again, to much disappointment amongst the other houses and Valeria was shocked that she cared even less for the sport than she had ever before.

Valeria’s stress was higher than ever, yet it somehow managed to become her normal and she hardly noticed the toll it had been taking on her all year at this point. It cheered her a great deal that Potter was suddenly terrible at Potions once again. Valeria figured it was his lack of privileges or perhaps it was the Weasley girl’s influence, as the two seemed to have become an item. Whatever the case, Valeria was back at top of her Potions class, along with Granger, and the increased recognition Slughorn now gave her was a welcome ego boost.

 

 

The month of May was quickly coming to the end, which meant Draco’s birthday was coming up. Valeria perused catalogue after catalogue for ideas on what to get him for his birthday, but nothing was right. What would he even want or need at this point? She looked at the necklace she received from him as part joke, part sincerity and felt a tad guilty for not having a similar stroke of idea.   

But the night he finally fixed the cabinet and proved that it would work, Draco was elated and nothing could have soured his mood or lifted it harder. The task was not over, but to his mind, the hardest hurdle had been overcome. Running out of the Room of Requirement, he didn’t care who saw him. It didn’t matter now; the deed would was already done. He ran to dinner, well after it had started, feeling deep relief for the first time in almost a year. It had worked. Soon, so soon would it all be over. His favor would be restored, and those he loved would finally be safe. And he would be their savior, he would be the hero for once. The remainder of his mission daunted him, but for now, he reveled in this victory that had been burdening him for so long.  

He was nearly out of breath, by the time he reached the Great Hall, but he walked briskly to the Slytherin table. There was only one person he wanted to see and only one with whom he could share his relief. She was alone, occupying herself with a book while picking at her food. He rushed to Valeria and tapped her on the shoulder.

“Draco?” she greeted upon seeing him. She stood, raising an eyebrow, spying his messy hair and his panting. But without a word he took her into his arms and crashed his lips onto hers, eliciting a few jeers and whistles from the other Slytherins, namely some of the boys. Naturally, this caught the attention of others in the hall, but Draco didn’t care to pay it any mind. He released her from the kissed, and she smiled sheepishly, though she wore a blatantly confounded expression.   

“What’s going—” she began, but he took her hand and pulled her gently before she could finish, turning back towards the entrance.

“Come on,” he said with what likely was the dumbest looking grin he ever wore. Their leaving hand-in-hand led to another round of whistling and suggestive comments that made her blush, but he was determined. He marched her down the corridors while she playfully demanded to know where they were going. He found an old class room, they knew nearly each one in the castle by this point, and pulled her in, locking the door and silencing the room. He kissed her again, longer and deeper this time, and she gave into it. It was the greatest he had felt in months. 

“Plan on telling me what this is all about?” she asked upon release.

“I’ve done it, Valeria. It’s going to be okay,” he said, cupping her face with a hand. “You’re going to be okay.” 

“Your task?” she asked. He nodded.

“There’s still more, but it’s going to work now,” he said.

“So, what happens now?” she asked, stopping him as he leaned into kiss her again. Instead, he took her hand tight his.

“Just a little longer, and I mean it this time. I’ll explain everything and then everything will be like it was. You’ll be able to see your mother and no one will ever be able to hurt us again. I promise,” he said. She considered his words seriously, he was acting maniacal and she was still so in the dark and unsure, but what did she have left to put her faith in? He had been there, in the ways that mattered, more than anyone else had been. It had been the two of them against everything, it seemed, for such a miserable year. Against the nagging voice inside her head that told her that something must be wrong, she nodded.

“I have something for your birthday. Now I want you to have it early,” she said. She reached into one of the pockets in her robes and out she pulled an item that had long been stored away in her trunk and placed it in his hand. He examined it, a think silver chain with a tasteful _W_ for a pendant.

“But this is—”

“The one mother gave me when I got on the Hogwarts Express for the first time,” she explained.

“You were so proud of this, strutting around the train like you owned the place,” he laughed.

“I wanted everyone to see it,” she smiled.

“I can’t take this. This means a lot to you,” he said.

“I want you to have it. You don’t have to wear it obviously, but I want you to have something of mine that actually means something,” she said. He wrapped the chain around his wrist and tucked it safely into his sleeve. He leaned down to kiss her again. For some time, they stayed like that, together and alone, and for once feeling the semblance of happiness. Both of them knew the preciousness of these moments, somewhere deep down, but neither truly realized that this was the best it would be for quite a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're approaching the end of this and I'm excited to move onto the third and final installment. Thanks for sticking with me and sorry for any silly typos; I'll re-edit this in the future to fix those. Stay safe, y'all.


	18. Promise Broken

_"You won't leave again?"_

_"Can't now. Even if I wanted to."_

_*****_

“Daphne, can I talk to you a second?” Draco asked after dinner in the common room. She nodded and he pulled a small, folded and sealed, piece of parchment from his pocket. “I need you to put this on Valeria’s nightstand after she’s asleep.” Daphne was taken aback.

“And why should I do anything for her?” Daphne asked, folding her arms.

“I don’t give a damn about your little feud, you just need to do this one thing,” Draco said, aggravated. He was truly agitated, his mind reeling with anxiety and he had no patience for Daphne’s grudges. Daphne seemed to take his tone seriously and took the parchment from him.

“Anything I should know?” she asked.

“No. Keep that out of sight until you put it on the nightstand and do not tell a soul. Understand?” Draco said. Daphne nodded and shoved it away in her robes. Draco curtly thanked her and made his way out of the common room for his final trek to the Room of Requirement to solidify his resolve and wait.

“Draco!” he heard from up ahead, and indeed it was Valeria approaching him, smiling. Even in her school robes, she was a sight for his weary eyes. She was more like the Valeria he knew than she had been in so long and he knew he might be throwing it all way.

“Where are you off to?” she asked, stopping just before him.

“Up to the Room, just for a bit,” he said, shifting nervously.

“I thought you said you were done in there.”

“I just want to check something,” he said, placing his hands gently on her shoulders. He leaned over and kissed her. “Don’t worry about me.”

“Alright, I’m warning you though, I’m exhausted so I don’t know if I can escort you back tonight.”

“That’s fine. I don’t need you to,” he said. He looked at her, taking her in once more. “I’ll see you soon.”

She nodded. “Alright. See you soon.”

She walked off, her head high. Watching her leave, even her walk seemed graceful and he lingered there until he saw her disappear and heard the common room shut behind her. Sure that everything else was in place, he was off.

 

The last thing she saw before her eyes opened was her brother’s lifeless face, for yet another night. Despite her exhaustion, her mind was too plagued to stay asleep too long. She awoke to a pounding heart and in a cold sweat. She breathed deeply to calm down, looking around the room to reorient herself and remember that she’s safe. She looked over to the window, lulled to calm by the gently whooshing of the Black Lake just outside. By chance, her eye glanced to her bedside table and she saw a folded piece of paper, illuminated in the murky greenish light, that she did not remember putting there. There was no name, but she broke its seal and opened it. She lit the tip of her wand, careful not to wake any of the other girls.

_Valeria,_

_I’m sorry._

She would know that scrawl anywhere. All the peace, the relief she had felt, vanished and its place returned in a rush the fear and pain. Her heart felt as though it was being strangled. She rose and yanked her night-robe from its hook, slipped her feet into her hard-soled slippers and marched to the door. Her pace picked up as she made her way through the common room and she was nearly running until she came to a sudden stop at the exit. Crabbe and Goyle had been leaning against the wall and stood straight when she approached, brandishing their wands in their hands. She reached for hers as well.

“Where’s Draco?” she asked.

“Go back to bed, Winters. We’re aren’t supposed to let anyone out,” Goyle said. Her heart sank further, her mind reeling with the horrid possibilities.

“On whose orders?” she demanded.

“Malfoys,” Crabbe replied. She raised her wand, and so did they in response.

“Let me pass or this will not end well,” she threatened, her voice dark.

“We don’t want to fight you,” Crabbe said.

“Petrificus Totalus!” She cast at Goyle whose large frame went stiff and fell to the floor. Crabbe tried to jinx her, but thanks to Draco’s gift, she merely stumbled back and it bought her enough time to curse the same at him. She darted through the door and took off at a run. She followed the commotion, clutching the note in her hand, not knowing where to look. She stopped to catch her breath and think for a moment. She looked over the note again, and read between the lines. It wasn’t just an apology, it was a farewell.

 

_“No one can help me! I’m alone.” Draco said through tears, trembling. Saying the words aloud cut him deeply._

_“I know it must feel that way, Draco. But what of Miss Winters? She’s been very concerned for you this entire year,” Dumbledore said. Draco nearly recoiled at the sound of her name, fighting back the tears even harder as they threatened to burst forth._

_“Don’t talk about her! She knew nothing about it! You—You know nothing—”_

_“I do, Draco. I know that she has defended you, helped you sneak back and forth, brought you things to aid your task, and I know it was the poison that she brewed that nearly killed Ron Weasley,” the old man said. Draco could hardly withstand his words and he whimpered._

_“She didn’t know!” Draco protested._

_“I believe that. I also believe that she cares for you incredibly deeply,” Dumbledore replied._

_“He’ll—He’ll hurt her too. He said he’ll kill her and then me. He knows things, I never told her—”_

_“That you also care for her very much too,” Dumbledore said for him. Draco swallowed, not acknowledging the words he said, but his expression confirming their truth._

_“So, I have to do this. I have to keep her and my family safe. Valeria is innocent,” Draco said through a couple of tears that betrayed him._

_“She is and so are you. If you won’t take this offer for yourself, then do it for her sake. You know she wouldn’t want you to do this,” Dumbledore said._

_“It’s too late, don’t you understand?” He said, raising his voice. “She’ll never forgive me.”_

_“Oh, I doubt that very much, Draco. I think she would surprise if you let her.”_

She took off running again, her slippers making her less graceful than she would be otherwise and her night-robe billowing around her. Following the sound of dueling and destruction she made it, her legs and lungs aching nearly to the entrance of the Astronomy Tower.

“Hold it there!” She heard and froze, she turned slowly to see Alecto Carrow’s familiar face raising her want to Valeria. “It’s a little late for you to be wandering the halls alone, isn’t it?” Valeria raised her wand.

“I’m Valeria Winters, I think it’s best you stand down,” she said. Once again, her name was the only card she had to play, the only thing that could save her or at least buy her time. Alecto raised an eyebrow and called for another Death Eater. Valeria did not relent, there was nowhere to run, she had to stand and hold her own as best she could.

“Lookie here, I found the Winters girl,” Alecto smiled menacingly. The other one, Amycus, wore a satisfied smirk across his face.

“Hieronymus last child and Odessa’s missing girl…Yes, we’ve heard all about you,” he said.

“If you had any love for my family you will put your wands down!” Valeria said. They sniggered.

“We have other ideas,” Alecto said and immediately fired a curse, which Valeria managed to block. Amycus fired with her and Valeria shot back, but these were not Crabbe and Goyle, and far more skilled and much faster. Draco’s gift was helping, to her surprise, she recovered faster, but eventually she was overpowered and knocked swiftly into the stone wall. Her head wrung as she tried to regain her composure, but her wand was torn from her hands and she was grabbed by Amycus, larger and stronger than her. She began to cry out for help, she had heard fighting meaning the Death Eaters had opponents, but then Alecto cast a silencing charm over her.

“You’re coming with us and if you try anything, you’re dead,” Alecto sneered, leading the way, quickly to the Astronomy Tower. Up and up she was shoved until the door crashed opened before them, but Valeria was immobilized just outside.

“Dumbledore cornered!” Amycus said, turning to his sister.  he said, and he turned to a stocky little woman. “Dumbledore wandless, Dumbledore alone! Well done, Draco, well done!” The others filed in behind, leaving Valeria just outside. Dumbledore? Draco had cornered Dumbledore? But that was impossible. She tried to hear the conversation, but she heard Dumbledore’s voice and Draco’s amongst the others. Terrified, trying so hard to scream she felt as though she was frozen solid. She heard voices and commotion down below, but was too focused on the conversation at hand.

“If you’re losing heart, Draco, I have something that might motivate you,” Amycus said, releasing Valeria from her petrified state and yanking her into the sight of everyone else.

“Look he we found wandering the halls,” Alecto said, presenting her. Valeria saw Draco, his expression twisted into one of fear and grief, fighting back the tears that pricked at his eyes and she noticed a tremble in the hand that held the wand pointed at none other than Dumbledore. Her heart dropped like a lead ball. Their eyes, Valeria and Draco’s, locked and whatever brave face he had tried to put on left him.

“She has nothing to do with this, let her go!” Draco shouted at her captors. Valeria looked around, two brooms, Dumbledore looking at her weaker than she had ever seen him. She was petrified. Amycus shoved her to stand opposite Draco towards the railing, the wind blowing her hair and her night robe about.

“Oh, but she does. Your aunt told us all about your little girlfriend,” Alecto said.

“Release her at once!” Dumbledore commanded, though he sounded weak.

“I see why you’re fond of her. She’s a pretty one, smells nice too,” Greyback said in a way that made a chill run down her spine. Draco’s face contorted as if he were about to wretch and his wand hand trembled faster.

“Draco,” she said, her voice trembling weakly. He looked at her desperately as he heard her speak. “Whatever this is, we can get out of—”

“You remember the orders, Draco. Kill the old man, or she’ll be the first to die,” Alecto said teasingly. All the scattered, jagged pieces of Draco’s task snapped into place with those words. It all made sense. His desperation, his secretiveness, the poisoned wine and the cursed necklace, his fear, and his insistence that she stay safe, his unprecedented obsession with protecting her. There was no way that Draco would make it, she knew. Killing the most formidable wizard alive was not something he could hope to accomplish and get out alive, let alone the fact that, for all that he was, he was never a murderer.

“Draco, don’t!” she shouted, struggling against the grip that held her. “It’s not worth it! You don’t have to do this.” His wand was still pointed at Dumbledore, nearly shaking in his hand. He looked at her tearfully.

“Do you need to be convinced? _Imperio_ ,” Alecto said. A sudden sensation of warmth and relaxation washed over her as all fear left her. She could hear voices and felt Amycus’s grasp on her release. Draco was shouting, but the words didn’t reach her, save for mumbles, and it made no difference what he said or how he said it.

“To the edge, then. That’s a good girl. Now step up,” Alecto’s voice was the only voice that rung entirely clearly and she happily obliged the orders with ease. Peacefully, she gazed straight down to the ground.  

“The girl is innocent!” Dumbledore shouted as Draco screamed desperately, pleading, calling her name, but they didn’t faze her.

“Alright, come back down, darling,” Alecto said. The curse was lifted and all the relaxation left her, and she remembered that just a second ago she was staring down at the ground below, about to jump off. She looked to Draco with tears in her eyes, and his chest was heaving with panic and fresh tears rolled down his cheeks. “Still not convinced, boy? Fine—”

“Draco, don’t listen to—” she cried out but Alecto’s Cruciatus Curse hit her before she could finish. The vilest, most inhuman sound left her mouth involuntarily as her skin felt like it was being burned and flayed at the same time. Deep stabbing cut her all over body and she collapsed to the ground, shaking and writhing in a futile attempt to make it stop, as she felt herself being torn apart from the inside out. She could hear no voices, all else drowned out by her own screams. She hoped she would be dead soon.

But the curse lifted and although the pain was instantly gone, her body still trembled some on the cold ground. She caught her breath and managed to lift her head up, though she feared rising completely to stand. She looked into Draco’s eyes again and he had a look that could not be explained, paler than she had ever seen him, wide eyed and shaking. He was inconsolable.

“There’s one more curse, Draco. I don’t think you want me to demonstrate,” Alecto said.

“Draco, don’t do it!” Valeria cried.

“Do it or she dies!” Alecto said.

“No!”

At the moment, the door burst open once again and Valeria turned her head to see Snape marching towards them. Valeria felt relief.

“What’s the meaning of this. Why is she here?” Snape demanded, locking eyes with Valeria.

“The boy needed motivation. We’ve got a problem, Snape. The boy doesn’t seem able,” Amycus said. Snape said nothing, but marched towards Draco and shoving him out of the way. Draco nearly tripped over himself and immediately rushed to Valeria, but was stopped by Amycus’s arm. She sat up on the ground, looking at Draco standing under the unfathomably large Dark Mark hanging in the air, his hair wind tossed, his bloodshot eyes sunken into his sallow face.

“Severus…please,” she heard Dumbledore say quietly. She turned quickly to see her Head of House raise his wand at the Headmaster.

“ _Avada Kedavra!”_

And she watched, while screaming, as the curse launched Dumbledore backward off the ledge and descended suddenly out of sight. Draco rushed to her from behind, breaking through Amycus’s block, and grabbed her shoulders, shouting her name. She could not make sense of it. She was paralyzed by shock and horror. Snape grabbed Draco off of her, to Draco’s protest, and commanded all the Death Eaters away.

“Her wand, Amycus!” Snape ordered and Valeria’s wand was tossed at her, landing on the ground next to her and when she looked up again, they were gone. She heard distressed breathing and turned to see Harry Potter having appeared from nowhere, which was the last thing she was worried about. She had never seen Potter so wild looking, and it terrified her so much that she nearly pointed her wand at him when he rushed to her.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” she said, which was the truth at least physically for the most part. She could see the anxiety on his face and knew it was only out of a sense of duty to help that he had yet to run off after the Death Eaters. “Go,” she said with a nod and he took off without looking back. She came to a stand, the cold wind snapping about her, and up she looked to the mark looming over her, the entire castle. The last time she had seen it was on Draco’s arm.

It was a sign, of course, but to her it was a sign that, despite Draco’s promises, this was not over. It was only just starting. Miserably scared and lost, she set after Draco, determined to get to him. She snaked her way through the chaos inside the castle, remaining out of sight as best she could; Her frequent sneaking around Hogwarts all year had aided her in this regard. She knew they’d be headed for the grounds and Hogsmeade was too far to outrun their pursuers, so she made her way out towards the Forbidden Forest, praying she was right, running as fast as she could with her head aching from being thrown into the wall earlier.

She ran across the grounds as the castle was becoming alive with confused activity. When she was far enough away from the castle she stopped and looked up to the sky, the Dark Mark still hovering above the tower and a chill went through her again. All she could think of was getting to Draco, if she could save him then she could perhaps saver herself. An explosion towards Hagrid’s hut startled her. Gripping her wand tight, she saw his house all aflame and in the dim light of the flames she saw figures in motion. She took off again, her footing even clumsier in the darkness of the night on bare ground.

As she approached, the unmistakable figure of Professor Snape was in a standoff with a student who she could see from his frame and the darkness of his hair Harry Potter, once again. There was no time think. She held her wand tighter in her right hand as she came to the edge of the grounds and finally, a flicker of light reflected off against a head of white blonde hair.

“Draco!” she screamed into the night, so hard that the name scratched her throat as it made its escape from her lips. Harry and Snape stopped for a moment.  No one had noticed her, and she saw the other figures too, knowing who they were immediately; the Carrows and Fenrir Greyback. Draco turned sharply on his heel, and faced her. Surprisingly, he pointed his wand at her.

“Valeria, help me! You saw what he did, we have to stop him!” Harry shouted, referring to Snape, but his words barely registered. She made a promise to Draco and it was still with him where her loyalty remained.

“Get back inside, Winters!” Snape shouted back in response, but she was rooted to the spot, her eyes locked with Draco’s. Rage, confusion, despair, longing, hope and betrayal filled her heart, silencing the words she tried to muster until she caught Draco’s expression in the light, wordlessly pleading with her.

“Draco, don’t go,” She shouted at him, tears filling her eyes that she fought back with desperation. She thought they were in this together.

“Valeria, go back to the common room, please!” he replied, choking on a small cry.

“I helped you! I defended you! I’ve been trying to keep you alive!” she screamed, the words didn’t make sense, coming out as separate thoughts, broken up by grief and pain.

“Everything I did was to protect you from the beginning!” he said.

“By doing _this_?” she asked,

“Yes,” he said, owning his actions. “You don’t understand. I had no—”

“I understand more than you think!” she shouted over Snape and Harry, who were still at their own duel. She lifted her arm up and wriggled the ward he gave her for Christmas off of her wrist, which gave Draco an opening to cast a jinx at her, knocking her back onto the ground.

“Don’t take that off! Don’t you ever take that off! Put it back on now!” he shouted in a tone far angrier than she had ever heard him before. She held it in her hand and she stood back up again.

“Draco, please, just come back. You said we’d be–” she said.

“It’s time to go, Draco,” Snape said, having seemingly defeated Harry. Snape took Draco by the shoulder and pulled him back and out of bounds of the school grounds, disapparating with the others into darkness. She continued towards where they were, knowing it was futile, and she called out into the night for Draco and dropped to her knees in the dirt, letting out almost a year’s worth of heartbreak and helplessness as she wept.

The anger at Draco specifically began to set in. She was angry at him for a great deal, but namely leaving her trapped at Hogwarts. She could disapparate too, but she had truly nowhere to go and it would just like the previous year. At the same time, she could not bear the thought of returning to the castle and facing everyone after what she knew now and after all that she had done.

“Winters!” a voice bellowed behind her. Instinctively, she turned with her wand pointed at the speaker, which she have known from the voice was Hagrid. He stood alongside Potter, who even in the dim like she could see was looking worse for wear. She had never been unkind to Hagrid, at least not to his face. “What’re yeh doin’ all the way ou’ here. Come on, ought’ta get yeh back up to the castle.”

“No!” she protested, her voice shaking.

“He’s gone, Valeria,” Harry said.

“You think I don’t know that, Potter?!” she spat.

“Hey, now,” Hagrid scolded slightly, approaching her and effortlessly lifting her to her feet. “We’ll get yeh back, let’s go.” Absent of options, Valeria obeyed, walking a few paces behind the other two in silence, keeping her gaze down and trying to think through her limited options. At the castle, she saw the crowd gathering around the bottom of the Astronomy Tower. Harry and Hagrid talked and went towards the crowd and Valeria took it as her chance to break away, making her way back inside and down to the dungeons. It was a long walk, but thankfully, no one really noticed her with everything else going on. No one walking about seemed to realize that she had ever been out of bed.

Finally, she entered the Slytherin common room. Stepping in, she was once again greeted with the bewildered stares of her peers, and from the huddled groups emerged Daphne. Sheepishly, Valeria looked down, forgetting in all the confusion that her peers would want answers. She didn’t know what to say or do, but Daphne flung her arms around Valeria and held her close and there was nothing Valeria could do but weep into her friend’s arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking around and the comments and kudos. I'll be editing through this at some point to get rid of any embarrassing typos, I'm just trying to update quickly to get this thing done. We're approaching the end of this installment and then it's on to the third and final one, which I'm really excited for.


	19. Testimony

_"What should we do, when it's over?" he asked._

_"I haven't the slightest idea."_

_*****_

 

“How do I look?” Valeria asked Daphne, adjusting her robes, all black that went up to the top of her neck. Daphne looked Valeria over and considered her words.

“…Distinguished,” Daphne said.

“That’s good enough. I need to look serious for this trial,” Valeria said morosely. Daphne rolled her eyes.

“It’s not a trial, it’s just a questioning,” Daphne said, approaching Valeria. “You’re going to be fine. You’ll say the right things, you always do. And then you’ll come stay at mine for the summer and we’ll all be fine.” Valeria didn’t know if Daphne believed that last part, but she appreciated it.

She had told everything, resting in her bed with Daphne sitting beside her, the night of Dumbledore’s death. All the plots, all of what she now knew of Draco’s plan, and all the ways in which she was his accomplice. Daphne, horrified, was beside herself with guilt of mistreating Valeria, but the latter still believed she was the rotten friend in the situation. Whatever the case, Daphne and her were now closer than ever, though under awful circumstances.

Many students, particularly those in Slytherin, had gone home, others remained behind for Dumbledore’s funeral. It would seem half the wizarding world arrived in Hogsmeade for the somber occasion. The castle was swarmed with Ministry activity and the Minister himself was there today to obtain Valeria’s statement on the plot to murder the Headmaster. Daphne had kindly stayed behind as well until the interrogation was complete so that they could leave together.

Valeria went to her night stand and hastily scribbled a quick letter,

_Mother,_

_I am well and will be safe for the summer holiday at the Greengrass’s. You can write to me there._

_Your Daughter,_

_Valeria T. Winters_

On the envelope, she scrawled her mother’s name in her usual chicken scratch and once dry and sealed, she handed the letter to her friend.

“Can you send this off while I’m away?” Valeria asked. Daphne nodded and took the letter from her.

“Do you want me to walk with you?” Daphne asked. Valeria shook her head.

“I want to do this alone,” she said. Daphne hugged Valeria again and wished her luck before Valeria set off for her long walk to the designated meeting place in McGonagall’s office. The past couple days had been a whirlwind, even though Valeria barely ventured out of the Slytherin common room. She had been alone before, but never felt so lonely as now. She could feel the pain she had in part caused radiating from everywhere in the castle, a feeling she could not rationally explain, but it ate at her.

She knocked firmly on McGonagall’s door, refusing to show weakness any weakness. Opening it, she was greeted by Tonks who allowed her in to face The Minister and McGonagall. The latter gestured to a chair before the large desk and instructed Valeria to have a seat. The Minister waved his wand, and a quill rose from the desk and begun to scribble on the parchment under it.

Rufus Scrimgeour stood there with a severe, exhausted expression and McGonagall looked deeply saddened, naturally. Before McGonagall could speak, the Minister spoke.

“Miss Winters, would you be so kind as to lift your left sleeve, please?” he asked.

“I beg your pardon?” Valeria said, knowing already how the tone of this meeting was to go. 

“Is that necessary?” McGonagall asked. 

“Given the severity of the situation, yes, it is. Your arm, Miss Winters,” Scrimgeour ordered. Valeria held her head high and and yanked her sleeve up to show only bare skin on her left forearm. Satisfied, the Minister spoke again.  “Miss Winters, this meeting has a couple purposes. The first is to collect your statement regarding the events leading to the murder of Albus Dumbledore and secondly to determine your next steps.”

Valeria held back a laugh. ‘ _What next steps?’_ , she thought. It has only been a couple days. She hasn’t given much thought as to where to go next, other than to Daphne’s.

“What do you need to know?” she asked.

“What is your relationship with Draco Malfoy?” he asked. Valeria had no clue now.

“We are very close friends,” she said to the Minister’s dissatisfaction. 

“According to Harry Potter, there’s more to it than that,” he said.

“We never defined it, really, at least not this term, but given our closeness you could probably say we were together,” she replied. “Though he left in a rather terrible rush, I don’t think that’s the case any longer.” Sarcasm dripped from her words that the Minister ignored.

“When did you become aware of his involvement with You-Know-Who?”

“On the train, start of term,” she said honestly. 

The Minister and McGonagall looked appalled. “And you said _nothing_?”

“Draco has a penchant for the dramatic. All he said then was that he’d been assigned a task that would help boost his position, and mine. I didn’t think much of it. I had no idea at the time what he actually meant.”

“He didn’t say?” Scrimgeour asked.

“He refused to fully explain. I’m sure he would have killed if it had been discovered that anyone else found out,” she said.

“And when did you become aware he was a Death Eater?” Scrimgeour asked.

“The night of Professor Slughorn’s Christmas party. Draco showed me the Mark, a small part of it. After the incident with Bell I had become quite worried and forced his hand,” she explained. Those before looked even more upset and appalled. McGonagall’s disappointment was abundantly clear.

“You knowingly harbored a de in these castle walls?” the Minister said slowly.

“More than that, sir. I helped him.”

“Miss Winters,” McGonagall said, shocked.

“Elaborate?” Scrimgeour demanded, ignoring McGonagall.

“I stole Polyjuice Potions and ingredients in order to make it myself, which I later found out was for Crabbe and Goyle to disguise themselves and guard the Room of Requirement. I did his homework to keep him out of detention, brought him food, covered for his sneaking around by appearing as though we were out of bed to be together. I was the one who brewed the poison that nearly killed Ronald Weasley, though I didn’t know that Draco was going to use any of it.”

“Valeria...why?” McGonagall asked, somewhere between horror and pity. 

“I never knew what he was up to in the Room of Requirement. All I knew was that he needed help or else he’d be in great danger,” she said, standing her ground.

“You do realize that makes you an accomplice,” Scrimgeour angrily said.

“I do."

“And why did you not report any of this?” McGonagall asked.

“I would not risk getting him expelled or found out,” she said.

“You chose to protect him?” Scrimgeour asked.

“I knew that You-Know-Who would hurt him if he was discovered. I would not let that happen.”

“Even given the results of your actions?”

“I don’t expect you to understand,” Valeria said.

“Try to explain then,” Scrimgeour said.

She elaborated as best she could. Speaking strategically, she left out the part about his letters from the summer, the armband he gave her. But she was truthful about a great deal; her fear for him, their loneliness, their promise to keep each other safe at any cost. She spoke of how he struggled and withered away and how his heart simply wasn’t in it. This meeting was for her to save her skin, but it also was to save Draco’s, no matter how abandoned she felt by him. Everything she said was spoken with nonchalance, resigned apathy, which seemed more shocking to the authorities than the content of her words. Her hands had been tied, doing the right thing would have killed him, and now she knew his parents and her as well. By making the wrong choice, she could keep her promises and her honor. She could live with that, she decided. She hadn’t much of a choice now anyway. 

After her testimony, the Minister let out a breath. 

“These are all expulsion worthy offenses. You are extremely fortunate that we’ve chosen not to place you under arrest immediately,” Scrimgeour said.

“By all means, sir. It hardly matters anymore.”

“Minister, while Miss Winters’s actions are certainly reprehensible, it is clear to me they were not done with full knowledge of their gravity. She’s still a child, sir. I don’t believe Professor Dumbledore would wish her to be punished so severely,” McGonagall interrupted.  “What I wish to know is why you came to no one with any of this.” 

Valeria was growing tired and frustrated. It was consuming all of her endurance to remain calm and collected, but she was nearing her breaking point. “With all due respect, professor, when have any of you done anything for us?”

“Miss Winters,” McGonagall said, taken aback. It was the truth and perhaps that is what angered Valeria most about this meeting. Draco had been wrong about many things over the years, but it was becoming abundantly clear to her that the faculty of Hogwarts had massive blind spots when it came to certain students. And now, after it was over, when it was far too late, the authorities suddenly expressed concern. Valeria would not have it.

“I mean it. Where were you when my father and brother died and I was alone? Where were you when Draco was so obviously struggling? Giving him detention? Dumbledore himself always made clear that Potter was his first priority! None of you considered us and none of even tried to help. So why the hell would we trust the lot of you?!” Valeria said, gritting her teeth. She was a bit ashamed of her outburst, mainly failing to save face, but at least it was honest. The authorities in the room were quiet for a moment until the Tonks woman spoke.

“We’re here to help now,” Tonks said, trying to sound reassuring.

“A lot of good that does me now!” Valeria spat. The Minister sighed again.

“You have a choice to make Miss Winters,” he said.

“If you’re going to expel me, just get it done,” Valeria said, resigned. 

“While your actions would be worthy of expulsion under different circumstances. I have been advised, and the faculty is in agreement, that it is best to allow you to enroll for next term,” he started sternly, as if he did not fully agree with his own words. “Your testimony aligns with Mr. Potter’s. We will not prosecute you or take this further legally.” Valeria was relieved to hear this, but attempted not to show it. “However, given your unique position in these circumstances, it is the Ministry’s fear that you may still be used against the effort to combat the dark threat to the wizarding world, particularly given Mr. Malfoy’s failure to execute the assassination of Albus Dumbledore on his own. I will add that this is also a great risk to you. Therefore, in exchange for this extremely merciful ruling, you must agree to certain conditions.”

“I have had no contact with any known Death Eaters or followers of You-Know-Who, other than Draco Malfoy, for over a year, sir. I am hardly a threat to anyone,” Valeria argued, the thought of _conditions_ , making her incredibly uneasy.

“Your actions this academic year suggest otherwise, Miss Winters. Your family maintained a high status amongst dark wizards and your proximity in that regard makes you still valuable to them. You were used in part, it seems, to manipulate the Malfoy boy and we have no reason to believe you will not be weaponized against those who care for you in the future, or worse. It is our judgement that for the summer holidays you will be housed in sanctuary with the Order of the Phoenix for your own protection,” The Minister explained.

Valeria practically leapt to her feet. “Absolutely not!”

“Valeria, you’ll be perfectly safe with—” Tonks began.

“No! I cooperated last year and I stayed in that hovel and I will not do it again!”

“Miss Winters, it is for your own—”

“I have already made arrangements to spend the summer with the Greengrass family. I will be well protected with them.”

“The Greengrass’s allegiances are not yet clear and are suspected of supporting You-Know-Who. Remaining with them is far too great of a risk,” The Minister explained.

“If you want to imprison me properly, then just do it! I won’t be insulted by your pretending that this is for my own good. I will remind you all that I am of age and am therefore free to make this decisions on my own!”

“And I will remind you that you committed several criminal actions over the past months that have gone on your records!” The Minister argued.

“It’s been made clear that I was not acting with full knowledge of the impact of those actions!” Valeria shouted back.

“Intentions do not matter here, Miss Winters. I strongly advise you to accept his offer with gratitude, particularly to Miss Tonks who was the primary actor in making these arrangements,” the Minister said. Valeria looked around the room, first to McGonagall who nodded encouragingly for Valeria to accept. Tonks looked at Valeria with a sympathetic expression.

“Minister, perhaps if I could speak to Miss Winters privately for a few minutes…” Tonks suggested. The Minister looked angered by the proposition.

“I think that is wise,” McGonagall agreed. The Minister considered, staring daggers at Valeria.

“Five minutes,” he determined. He and McGonagall left the room and when the door shut behind them, Valeria turned back to Tonks with fury.

“Why are you doing this?” Valeria demanded.

“Your brother would not want you to fall into their hands,” Tonks said. Valeria scoffed.

“This again? You didn’t know him and neither of us can say what he would because, need I remind you, he’d dead!”

“You’re right. I didn’t know him, but I remember clearly the man in the Department of Mysteries—”

Valeria couldn’t take it anymore. “Don’t!”

“—Who was not fighting for the Dark Lord or his parents’ ambitions. He was fighting for you and you only. Konstantin wouldn’t want you to end up in the position he did.”

“He hardly matters now!”

“I think he matters to you a great deal still,” Tonks said calmly against Valeria’s shouting. The Auror paused before speaking. “A similar offer was extended to Draco Malfoy on top of the Astronomy Tower.”

“What are you talking about?”

“According to Harry Potter, Dumbledore offered to keep you, his mother, and himself safe if they joined the Order and that Malfoy was about to accept before the Death Eaters arrived on the scene,” Tonks explained to Valeria’s shock.

“That can’t be true,” Valeria said.

“Would Potter have a reason to lie when it comes to Malfoy?” Tonks asked. Even as much as she despised Potter, Valeria knew that Tonks’s reasoning was likely solid. “Malfoy nearly did it for you, your brother died for the sake of you. I want you to do this for the sake of you too. You know what happens to people who fall into _his_ clutches, you’ve seen it firsthand, but this is your chance.”

Valeria considered, the news of Draco’s near surrender surprising her a great deal. She hated being with the Order last year, but what option did she have? She couldn’t get to Draco, he had left her behind and even if she were to throw herself to the Dark Lord, declaring her undying loyalty, it could easily be suicide, just as it nearly was for Draco. The Dark Lord had threatened her life once and there was no reason to believe he wouldn’t do it again if it was convenient, that was certain. Her contempt for the Order made her wary. She was certain that there was no way they would help her out of the goodness of their hearts. Attempting to turn her to their side, to receive potentially valuable knowledge of inside matters that she might or might not have possessed would no doubt be seductive for them, at least to her mind.

“Where would I be staying?” she asked. Tonks sighed with dread.

“The Weasley home,” Tonks admitted. Valeria rolled her eyes and pinched the skin between her eyes.

“God dammit,” she said to herself. “Even after I nearly killed their son?”

“The Weasleys understand that that was completely unintentional on your part, though I won’t pretend that it won’t be…difficult,” Tonks explained. Valeria felt incredibly defeated, but what other choice was left to her? She had nowhere else to turn. She reluctantly accepted.

 

 

Back in the girls’ dormitories, she tearfully told Daphne what had happened to the ire of her dear friend.

“This is bullshit! I’ll talk to my father, he’ll get you out of this,” Daphne said.

“There’s no point. It’s just one more summer and then I’ll be done with all this,” Valeria said, not believing her own words. Daphne argued back and Valeria had to force her friend to accept this, no matter how awful it made her feel. Daphne eventually relented and the girls began to pack for their respective departures, Daphne leaving sooner. Valeria found in her things the book from her brother and the poison vial. She panicked and rushed to Daphne.

“You have to take these,” she said, putting the items on Daphne’s bed.

“What are these?” Daphne asked, examining them.

“Things they’ll definitely confiscate. Hold onto them until next year and don’t tell anyone, promise?” Valeria demanded. Daphne nodded and packaged them away in her luggage safely.

“Oh, damn, I almost forgot,” Daphne said, pulling an envelope from her robes. “Your owl had this for you.” Valeria took the letter and looked at the neatly written _Valeria Winters_ on the front and she knew in an instant from whom it came. She went back to her bed and sat in it, anxiously opening the letter with a heavy heart and fearing the uncertain times that soon awaited her upon her departure from Hogwarts. The letter began,

 

_Dear Valeria,_

_I’m sorry._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a bit boring, admittedly, but it was necessary. There will be an epilogue after this and then we'll be heading straight into installment three, which will be longer than this one, I suspect. Thank you for the kind words and regards and as always, I'll edit out those pesky typos as soon as I can!


	20. Epilogue: Dear Valeria, Part II

_ One Day Earlier _

Draco paced.

He had hardly slept since he arrived back home, so he took to pacing around his room when his thoughts and dark feelings overwhelmed him. The entire manor was overrun with other Death Eaters nearly constantly and as a result, the only place he could find some scrap of peace was in his room. His mother bought him time away from the others, claiming he needed his rest. For that he was grateful.

He fidgeted with the quill in his hand, pacing, still pacing. He could not find the words to write, none of them seemed adequate. He knew it was unacceptable. Valeria had once told him that nothing was beyond words, the right ones just needed to be found. “ _Tell that to the drafts that I burned…”_ he thought. He could give her a run for her money now.

But he had to write something. Everything was eating at him from all directions. Even in his own room, the closest place that resembled to him a sanctuary, he could not escape. She was everywhere he looked in here. Although the room was stately, styled in the way of rest of the manor, there were so many touches of his boyhood. The Quidditch posters and the sentimental trinkets of his interests on the walls and surfaces were there, but so too was she. The yearly Slytherin photographs gnawed at his guilt, she was staring at him now in each one. The one his mother had managed to get a hold of, the one from the Yule Ball, awkward and half-grown, hung on the wall above his desk. On his arm, the little _W_ on the think silver chain still dangled from his wrist tucked into his sleeve above the Dark Mark on his arm. It felt cruel.

No, it was a boy’s room, not a man’s. Then again, what kind of man could he claim to be? What kind of man would leave her in the dirt of the Hogwarts grounds alone? What kind of man would watch her nearly leap from the tower and writhe in excruciation on the cold hard stone and do _nothing_? What kind of man would promise a happy end to the chaos, but instead just make everything worse?

He had planned to leave her not long before the horrible night. There was no way, he came to realize, that he could possibly guarantee her safety. It broke him beyond brokenness, but leaving her there, with people he knew, despite their feelings about her, would not harm bought them time. When he failed, when he could not finish what he had started, he knew it was over. The Dark Lord would not care about the successes he managed to accomplish. Punishment was coming and he had to keep her away until he knew what that meant for him and, he shuddered at the thought, for her. His heart of hearts gave him no choice; He would protect her still, even if it meant he lost her.

He sat at his desk reluctantly, as ready as he would ever be.

 _Dear Valeria,_

_I’m sorry._

_It is all my fault. I know. I cannot explain fully in this letter, which is the least you deserve, but I will someday, I swear. That is, if you let me. Know that I have done everything, and am doing everything, with you in mind. I can do little for you now._

_If you can, run. Get as far away from this nation as you can and when it’s over, I’ll find you. Even that Order can’t help you long, trust me. If you cannot run, then hide until this ends._

_I’m sorry. For everything, from the beginning, from forever._

_Burn this._

_Yours still,_

_Draco Malfoy_

 

It was the best he was ever going to do. With small tears in his eyes, he blew the ink dry and folded it neatly into an envelope addressed to her. He rose and began to make his way to the small owlery housed on the estate, the letter tucked tight into an inside pocket of his robes. He wanted to turn back, he nearly did several times. Even now he was terrified of being caught, like the coward he now believed himself to be, but this was too important to him. He somehow managed to keep walking.

“Draco.”

It was not the sound of his name, but the whimpering nature of the voice that wrenched him from his thoughts that made him jump. 

“Mrs. Winters,” Draco greeted softly, looking down, unable to look her in the eye. The woman was a shadow of her former self. The face that used to scare him a little as a boy, revealing nothing was now gaunt and gray looking. Her eyes, when he managed to actually look at her were wide with fear. Rather than the imposing poise that she once carried herself with, she seemed small and timid now. Unrecognizable with grief.

“Draco, please. You have to help her. If they find her—”

“I—I’ll so my duty, ma’am,” he said, not knowing what to say. 

“You don’t understand. The Carrows said that she urged you to stay at Hogwarts, that she did not choose our side,” she said nearly crying. “She’ll be punished Draco, you know this…Please. She’s a sensitive girl, she’s always been too soft. She’ll never make it out ali—” Odessa Winters burst into tears, unable to finish the thought aloud and reached for him. “You care for her still, yes? Draco, she’s all I have left…You were her best friend—”

“Odessa!” 

Draco looked up to see his mother dutifully approaching. Narcissa had been Odessa’s caretaker, for lack of a better word, since the deaths of Hieronymus and Konstantin. The two mothers spent a great deal of time alone together over the past few months, having only each other for support in all of this. Narcissa said calming words to Odessa and escorted her away, nodding to Draco to carry on before they turned their backs to him.

Nearly shaking with guilt and grief, Draco continued to the owlery and reached the point of no return when he released his owl to fly off with the letter. He watched it soar freely from the window and was unable to hold back from crying. A real cry. One last, pathetic, cry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for making it through this installment. I am excited to get onto the next one.


End file.
